Back to the Beginning
by skygirl55
Summary: Castle would be the first to admit that their deep friendship was unexpected and slightly peculiar given how different their lives were. Then again, perhaps that was why their bond was as strong as it was; those two descriptors perfectly illustrated the circumstances surrounding their initial meeting. Perhaps it was the path they were destined to walk. Caskett FFYG-AU
1. Prologue

**Back to the** **Beginning**

Castle would be the first to admit that their deep friendship was unexpected and slightly peculiar given how different their lives were. Then again, perhaps that was why their bond was as strong as it was; those two descriptors perfectly illustrated the circumstances surrounding their initial meeting. Perhaps it was the path they were destined to walk. Caskett FFYG-AU

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There are 10 chapters

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 **Prologue**

Standing in the corner of the rooftop bar, Richard Castle gazed out across the city before lifting his head and turning his champagne glass nearly upside down so the last few drops of bubbly liquid poured onto his tongue. When he lowered the glass again he felt his heart sink a bit lower into his chest. The evening was over and he had unfortunately spent it mostly alone.

He should have been happy or at the very least satisfied. The party was, after all, in his honor. Well, rather, in honor of his fictional character Derrick Storm and the final appearance he would make in print, but yet he was not satisfied at all. At best, he could be described as disappointed and not because of the continued browbeating he received from his publisher-slash-ex-girlfriend Gina about killing off the character she'd dubbed "The Golden Goose." No, Castle was disappointed because his best friend had not shown up to the party even though she said she would be there.

Well, she said she would try to be there—unless something came up at work. If it had, he couldn't blame her for not coming. Her job was far more important than his; she made a real difference in the world. Still, that did not stop him from being disappointed; this was the first Derrick Storm book release party she missed since they met seven years earlier.

Castle would be the first to admit that their deep friendship was unexpected and slightly peculiar given how different their lives were. Then again, perhaps that was why their bond was as strong as it was; those two descriptors perfectly illustrated the circumstances surrounding their initial meeting. Perhaps it was the path they were destined to walk. All Castle knew was that seven years in, his life most certainly would not have been the same without Kate Beckett in it—and he wouldn't want it any other way.

What would he do without their daily phone calls or text messages? How sad would it be not to see her at his apartment at least once if not twice a week for dinner? Or if she didn't take Alexis out on their bi-monthly girl's day excursions? He couldn't even fathom a world and he hoped that he never had to. As much as the spoiled wealthy writer within him wanted to stomp his feet and say it wasn't fair she didn't join him that night, he couldn't; taking criminals off the street was far more important than sipping champagne with him and helping to feed his already expanded ego. Still, he couldn't help himself from checking his phone one more time to see if he had a message from her; he didn't.

With a sigh, Castle walked his now-empty glass over to the bar and passed it over to the bartender with a polite nod and a smile. He then moved down several stools and sat at the corner beside his daughter, who was studying for a test in a subject he could barely fathom. He supposed he could have if he put his mind to it—if it interested him—but at her age? There would have been no way. He was too busy trying to stir up all the trouble he could in his mid-teens to be bothered with something as mundane as studying.

"How's it going, Pumpkin?"

She let out a long exhale and propped up her head with her fist. "Okay. Better now that there are less people here and I can focus more on learning these details."

He chuckled inwardly and reached out his hand to squeeze her forearm. "I don't know if anyone's told you recently, but you're not supposed to be studying at a party."

"Then don't have your parties right before I have a test," she retorted and then they shared mocking smiles. "Besides, what else am I going to do here? Everyone's fawning over you and Derrick and I'm—oh look!" A grin blossomed across the red-headed girl's face instantly. "She made it in time!"

Castle whipped around to gaze towards where his daughter's eyes were focused: the elevator just across from the bar. As there was hardly a crowd left to speak of, he had a very clear view of the woman in a dark pantsuit with shoulder-length maroon-toned hair (he told her the color was a mistake and suspected she agreed, but was too stubborn to get it changed; per usual). Despite the fact that her expression could easily be categorized as more of a scowl than a smile, the writer grinned when she approached.

"Kate! You're here! I…why do you look so upset?" His tone morphed into one of concern when she stopped just a foot from him and her mouth still formed a straight line. It had been many years since she did not smile at the sight of him—assuming he had not done anything to offend or upset her, which he truly did not think he had. Clearly, something was amiss.

"We need to talk," she said curtly. The tone she used was her official Detective Kate Beckett tone; the one that indicated she was not in any mood to tolerate his teasing or mirth.

The smile on his face falling away, he concluded, "That doesn't sound good."

"It's not," she informed him simply. Then, she turned to the young girl who gazed at her from behind her father's shoulder. Only then did a soft smile cross her face. "Sorry I wasn't able to and hang out with you tonight, sweetie; something came up at work."

Alexis shook her head, dismissing the concern. "It's okay; don't worry about it. What's wrong?"

Turning back to her father, the detective said, "Can your mother take her home? You need to come to the station with me."

Castle's brow wrinkled immediately. "The station? Why?"

"I'll explain later; where's your mother?"

"Um…" He gazed around the remaining patrons for several moments until he spotted his mother in her emerald green gown, draped over the back of a grand piano, a glass of champagne sloshing around in her hand as she sang and swayed dramatically to the music being played by a gray-haired man. "I'm not sure she's ready to go yet."

"It's okay; I can go myself," Alexis said in her well perfected fifteen-going-on-fifty way.

Kate shook her head. "No. A uniform will take you and stay with you until your father gets home." She turned and gestured for one of the men who had followed her off the elevator to come closer and instructed him to take Alexis to her home address and wait until her father joined them though it could be several hours.

When Castle heard this statement, his face immediately flushed and he felt sober despite the near bottle of champagne he'd consumed that evening. Stepping up to his friend, he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and asked quietly, "Seriously—what's going on?"

"It's…complicated. I'll explain on the way."

Nodding, Castle dutifully followed her to the elevator while texting his mother a brief update on their situation, not wanting to face her wrath if he interrupted her serenading a man she intended to bed. Shuddering at that thought, he pocketed his phone and climbed onto the elevator beside his detective friend. Kate's face was as solemn as he'd ever seen it, which, given how much they'd been together over their seven year friendship, truly was saying something.

As the car descended to the ground floor, terrible scenarios began playing through his overactive imagination. What could possibly have happened that would involve Kate being so grim and his presence at a police station being a requirement? As Kate was a homicide detective, he could only assume it had to do with a murder case, but all of his loved once had been at that night's party and they were all unscathed. Surely, if it was something truly terrible she would have told him right away, right? He hoped she would have—and trusted she would have, because they trusted each other and had had ever since they first met.

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 **A/N** : Thanks for reading everyone. This one has a brief beginning but the other chapters are longer, I promise lol

I will be posting this 3 times a week: Saturday, Tuesday, Thursday.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

-Seven Years Earlier-

 _The wind raged and rain pelted down against the windows as Storm gazed out at the city—his city. He only needed time to—_

"Ah, shit!" Richard Castle cursed aloud and pulled his hands away from the keyboard of his laptop when the interior lights to the cabin flickered three times in quick succession. As talented and experienced as he was in writing, particularly in the macabre, there were still times during which he spooked himself, particularly when life imitated art. Then again, he had chosen to write _Driving Storm_ during an actual storm in hopes of setting an inspirational mood. To that point, it had only served to be an annoyance. Maybe spending two weeks at a secluded cabin wasn't the antidote to writer's block he thought it would be.

Writer's block. Pah. The term was the absolute bane of his existence and one that he, thankfully, had not come face-to-face with too many times over his decade as a professional writer. That year, however, it was relentlessly walloping in the face him again and again; he just couldn't shake it. Castle thought that if he could get over his post-divorce funk he could get through anything, but barely a year later his brain evidently had other plans. Well, technically, he had written, but part of the way through he knew the Supervillain-Controls-the-Weather tale was not one Derrick needed to experience so he'd started over with _Driving Storm_. The first few chapters flowed well, but then the holidays hit and he became interrupted as he usually was. He thought he could start again in January, but then he missed his five chapter deadline and ten chapter one as well.

When May first rolled around and they'd yet to receive any useable chapters from him, Black Pawn sent a new representative, a blonde named Gina Cowell with one of the iciest demeanors he'd ever encountered, to forcefully insist that he find a solution to his writing problem—and fast—before he faced serious (and financial) consequences. That was when Castle came up with his getaway plan to remove all the distractions the city had to offer him. In the secluded woods of Upstate New York, he would have nothing to do but write—assuming the electricity cooperated, that was.

Eight days earlier, when Castle arrived on the cabin he rented sight-unseen, he was pleasantly surprised at its coziness. Normally, he was not one for "roughing it" and considering that the cabin had both electricity and running water, such a term barely applied. It did not, however, have the internet, or cell phone reception. Though there was a landline for emergencies, Castle vowed not to use it. For two weeks he was going off the grid and swore to construct as best a Storm novel as he could muster under the circumstances.

The first day he stuck to his resolve, taking a pleasant stroll around the nearby lake while plotting out a chapter in his mind and then retiring to the well-worn couch in the cabin to flesh it out with his laptop balanced on his knees. The next day, he did the same and while each subsequent day did not go quite as well, he was making progress—and that was something.

Earlier that day he went to the quaint nearby general store to pick up some groceries and perhaps pick up a newspaper to make sure that the world hadn't gone to hell in his absence. He could not help but overhear the conversation between the cashier and the woman checking out in front of him in line. Evidently, a large band of storms would be moving into the area that afternoon and camping out for a full day before moving on. Recognizing him as a newbie, the locals warned that the road leading to his secluded cabin would more than likely wash out with the level of rain they were to be expecting and he would probably be trapped for at least two full days if not three. Heeding their warning, Castle picked up a few extra cans of soup, but otherwise found himself excited by the idea; the setting would be perfect to write a tale taking place in similar conditions.

 _Right_.

Knowing he needed a break before he continued with Storm's escapades, Castle leaned away from his computer and rolled his shoulders. Then, he tiled his head far to the left side, stretching out his neck, and repeated the process in the other direction. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed himself away from the desk barely large enough for his six-foot-one frame, and moved towards the kitchen, intent on making himself a cup of tea.

Castle had not yet made it to the stove to pick up the kettle when he was once again startled by a loud noise. He stopped walking, and gazed curiously towards the front door just ten feet from him. The noise wasn't thunder—it couldn't have been. It didn't echo enough and actually sounded much closer by. It sounded…it sounded like something had landed on the front porch of his cabin—something large.

Thinking that perhaps one of the wooden chairs toppled over, the writer took one more step towards the stove when his gut clenched. Something told him that noise on the porch was too loud to be just a chair and needed to be investigated. He strolled easily past the front door to the window overlooking the porch and front yard. Parting the curtain, he gazed down in front of the window where the two chairs sat, but found them both upright. Strange.

Turning his gaze towards his right, he could barely see anything due to how dark it was, but a lightning bolt in the distance brightened the sky just enough for him to see something crumpled on the stairs leading up to the front of his cabin; something that was oddly human-shaped.

His heartrate speeding with concern, Castle took two long strides towards the front door, unlocked it, and whipped it open. Immediately his face was assailed with whipping winds and chilly pelting rain and he winced, taking a half step back. Lifting his right hand to shield his eyes, Castle was able to see just enough so that his eyes were not deceiving him; there really was someone collapsed on the stairs of his porch, but that didn't make sense! It had been storming for over two hours—who in their right mind would have gone outside in this?!

"Excuse me? Hello?" He called out as loudly as he could in hopes of being heard over the rain beating on the wooden porch roof. "Are you okay?"

Since he did not see the figure move, Castle cursed under his breath and forced himself to brave the elements despite the unpleasantness. He hurried to the stairs and dropped down to his knees on the top step, reaching out a hand to grab on to the person's shoulder. From that close up, he could tell the figure was a woman, but as her long, soaking-wet hair was plastered over her face, that was about all he could tell.

"Ma'am? Excuse me, ma'am, are you all right?"

Castle shook the woman's shoulder and, somewhat alarmingly, she did not respond. Using a bit more force, he pushed down on her shoulder enough to rotate her upper torso so that instead of being crumpled on her right side, she lay half on her back. With more of her body exposed to him, Castle nearly gasped aloud at the sight of her.

Though her face was still mostly covered with matted hair, he could see a gash just below her hairline in the center of her forehead. Her face, hands, and clothing were filthy and caked with mud and he believed her shirt was torn, though it was hard to tell with the whipping winds. Clearly, something terrible had happened to this woman. How she had arrived at his cabin, he wasn't sure, but he also knew he could not leave her outside in an unconscious state.

Gritting his teeth in a futile attempt to mitigate the unpleasant rain slashing him in the face, Castle hopped down two steps to put himself in a better position to hoist the woman off the ground. When he did so, he realized that while she was taller than average, she was also very thin, and thus was not very heavy. Still, she was dead weight—not to mention soaking wet—and carrying her inside was not a simple task.

Castle placed the strange woman down on the ground just far enough inside the door so that he could shut it and keep them safe from the elements. Then, wiping his face dry using the sleeve of his flannel shirt, he dropped down to his knees on the ground to examine the stranger. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" he asked without really expecting her to answer. For several seconds he merely stared down at her, not sure where to begin, but then decided to start with her head and move top to bottom.

Using his fingernails, he raked the hair away from her nose, eyebrows and eyelashes to see if she had any other facial wounds other than the one on her forehead. He smudged away some spots of dirt with the pad of his thumb but ultimately found no other injuries. From the looks of her pale, youthful skin, though, he determined she was not very old, perhaps even as young as in her late teens. He briefly wondered if she was a runaway from a nearby town, but then on second guess thought better of it, and pegged her age more in her early twenties, but certainly no older than that.

Turning his eyes to her torso, he took note of her torn and filthy red-and-black plaid shirt with a black t-shirt or tank top beneath. Both items were soaking wet and torn across the upper chest exposing bits of something beige, which he assumed to be her bra. Continuing southward, he observed her dark denim pants, thick socks, and brown hiking boots. Perhaps that was the story behind her appearance—maybe she had been hiking, unaware of the storm, and become lost and disoriented in the dark. That certainly would have been a plausible explanation.

Sitting back on his haunches, Castle stared at the woman and quickly realized he did not see her chest rising and falling as much as he would have expected—shit! How injured was she?

Trying his best to recall all the first aid training he knew, Castle quickly slipped his index and middle fingers just beneath her jaw line in an attempt to find a pulse. He felt one and then immediately turned his head to the side and placed his ear just above her mouth, listening for her breathing. Even when holding his own breath he still couldn't hear, so he delicately placed a hand on either side of her chest and was, thankfully, able to feel her ribs moving with each breath, though barely.

Considering that he was unable to rouse her, Castle suspected the woman should be evaluated by a doctor, but in the storm they did not have that luxury. Given how drenching the rains had been, he was sure the little creek running beside the road leading to his cabin had spilled its banks making the road impassible. No, he would need to do what he could to keep her comfortable until morning, and hope the head injury she sustained was not too serious.

Figuring he should start by wiping all the obvious dirt from her face, Castle hurried to the kitchen, dampened a towel under the faucet, and then returned to her side to begin cleaning her skin. For a brief hopeful moment, the young woman groaned and Castle hoped she was rousing from her unconscious state, but she didn't move and no other sounds exited her lips, so he continued to wash her face. When he was done with that, he moved on to her neck and hands, clearing all the dirt he could away from her exposed skin.

Not wanting her to have to spend the night on the wooden floor, Castle decided to move the woman to one of the cabin's spare beds, but in the process of lifting her from the ground, he realized his next problem: she was drenched! Thanks to his profession, he'd done a decent amount of research into hypothermia, and knew that leaving the woman in her wet clothing all night could have easily been a death sentence. As much as he felt uncomfortable disrobing a young, unconscious woman, he had to do so for her own safety.

After taking a moment to mentally formulate a plan, Castle hurried to the closet in the hall and collected all the towels he could find. He made a space on the spare bed for her, setting the towels on the opposite side of the bed, and then returned to the main living area to collect the woman. Once she was on the bed, he began to unlace her boots. When he pulled off the left one along with the sock, he noticed a purpling bruise below the ankle and wondered if she had fallen and injured herself. Given that she was wandering around for what he could only assume was a significant amount of time in the storm that seemed plausible if not likely.

With her boots and socks on the floor, he undid the button and zipper on her jeans and began tugging them off, which was not an easy feat given how soaking wet they were. Only when they flopped on the ground by his foot did he think to check the pockets for some form of identification, but of course there wasn't any. In fact, the pockets were completely empty; she didn't even have a key with her which he found very strange.

Castle then set to the task of removing her torn shirt and what ended up being a black tank beneath, which was easier said than done given the rag-doll state in which she existed. As he tugged at the cloth, shifted her limbs and then tugged some more, he was reminded of the many nights he had changed his young daughter into her pajamas while she was already sleeping. The actions were made difficult by the fact that this woman was significantly larger than his daughter had been, yet easier because he was not concerned about waking her up; actually, he welcomed it.

With each layer of the woman's clothing he removed, Castle grew increasingly uncomfortable and tried to touch her bare skin as little as possible. Generally, when a woman was this naked before him, he wanted her alert enough to refuse his touch if she felt uncomfortable. Of course he had no unsavory intentions with this unconscious woman, but the gentleman within him was certainly ready for the awkward endeavor to be over.

With her lying in just her undergarments, Castle realized his next issue. The woman would, ultimately, wake up (or so he prayed) and thus need to redress, but her long-sleeved shirt was practically shredded beyond use, not to mention filthy. Deciding he would provide her with something to wear, he crossed the hall to the room in which he slept, selected one of his long-sleeved shirts for her, and returned with it to the spare room.

He folded the shirt and placed it beside her on the bed and then reached for the blankets to toss over her when he froze as a new concerning thought hit him. The left cup of the girl's bra was far darker than the right one leading him to believe it was wet. He reached out a hand to touch it and confirm his theory, but then snatched it back immediately as though he were about to touch a hot flame. Did touching her bra while she was unconscious count as sexual assault? True he was not touching with the intent of obtaining pleasure, but he didn't want to risk it.

Concerned the wet bra would be detrimental to her skin, he decided it would be best to remove it, which would be tricky at best, but he formulated what he thought to be a fool proof plan. Reaching for one of the towels, he draped it over the girl's torso. He then snuck a hand underneath her body and, using thirty-one years of honed skills, flicked open the clasp of her bra. There; perfect. Now he needed to only _carefully_ pull at the sides of her bra beneath her armpits and slide the item away from her body, but beneath the towel and making it impossible for him to see anything he shouldn't.

Quite proud of his plan, Castle pinched the bra band between his thumb and index finger with both hands and then quickly yanked it down. When the bra straps slipped free of her hands, he held it up in front of himself, proud that his creative plan had worked….until he gazed down and realized that his action had flipped the towel up so that it was around her neck like a scarf and her petite breasts were completely exposed to him.

Shrieking out a curse, Castle dropped the bra and quickly yanked the towel back into place. Of course, he yanked too hard and caused the towel to crumple at her waist, exposing the top of her breasts from the opposite side. Cursing, "Damn it!" to himself he pulled the towel up again until she was once again fully covered. Then, he stepped back and put his hands on his hips, breathing out a sigh of relief as sweat formed on his brow. So much for his smooth idea—what a mess! But at least the woman was free of her damp clothing and, once he covered her in blankets, hypothermia would no longer be a problem.

Seeing as it was barely nine p.m., Castle left his unexpected guest in the spare bedroom and returned to his laptop, hoping to get a bit more writing done while she rested. She clearly had been conscious up until the point at which she collapsed on his doorstep, which had barely been twenty minutes earlier. He hoped that now that she was under dry blankets she would begin to warm up and then rouse herself.

Twenty five minutes after he sat down, Castle had yet to type more than a dozen words into Storm's tale; he was simply too distracted with thoughts of the mysterious young woman convalescing in the spare room. Where had she come from on such a terrible, stormy day? Presumably she knew about the impending poor weather, but then again perhaps she did not; he did not recall paying much attention to the weather when he was in his late teens and early twenties.

Still, her state was confusing. Even if she had not been aware of the storms when they started, surely when the rain began she would have turned back and returned to the place from which she came, wouldn't she have? Any sane person would have. The rain and thunder really were extreme. The more he thought about it, the more curious he became about her story and how she'd stumbled into his life.

Deciding he was simply far too distracted to focus on his book any more, Castle shut down his laptop and returned to the spare bedroom to check on her. She lay in the exact position he left her in, tucked tightly beneath the blankets, her eyes closed and face relaxed as though she were sleeping—but she wasn't. If she was sleeping, he could have roused her, but now nearly an hour had passed since she showed up. How long was a concussed person supposed to be unconscious? Surely, the longer she was unaware of her surroundings, the worse her medical situation had to be, so he decided to try and wake her again.

"Ma'am? Ma'am can you hear me?" He spoke in a tone perhaps slightly louder than he would have if they were having a normal conversation, but he still wasn't yelling. "Ma'am?" He shook her shoulder, but still she didn't open her eyes or respond, so he checked her pulse again and it seemed to be around the same.

Huffing out a breath, Castle stepped back and skimmed his hand over his chin. As he gazed down at her still figure, the writer's overactive imagination began painting horrible scenarios. What if she was in a coma? He would need to call the police by the morning if she was still not awake, but how sad and horrible would that be? She was so young and barely in her prime. What a terrible fate!

Shaking his head, Castle pushed such thoughts from his mind. He refused to accept that the world would be so cruel. Deciding it would be best to just let her be, he retrieved a bottle of water to place on her nightstand and also scribbled out a note informing her that she was safe and his name was Rick just in case she regained consciousness in the middle of the night and panicked. With these tasks done, Rick retired to the main bedroom of the cabin; there was nothing more he could do for the woman. He could only hope that, come morning, she would be all right.

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 **A/N** : Thank you so much for all your reviews/follows!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The following morning Castle awoke to the sound of rain tapping against the cabin's roof. It wasn't the deluge from the night before, nor did he hear wind or thunder, but the precipitation was definitely steady—and meant he and his companion would be trapped in the cabin for the duration of that day and presumably into the next, depending on when the rain stopped.

Lifting up a heavy arm he groped out for the nightstand, reaching for his watch. Squinting at it, he saw it displayed exactly seven a.m. Normally that was far too early an hour for him to consider getting out of bed unless he needed to be somewhere, but he had gone to bed atypically early the night before and he had a guest to think about. The last thing he wanted was for the woman to awake scared and confused and not be available to assuage her concern; clearly, she had already been through enough.

Tossing back the covers, Castle yawned and rubbed his fingers over his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. As he waited for it to brew, he shuffled over to the front window and gazed out into the yard to see the damage the storm had done. The clearing was positively littered with twigs, branches, tree leaves and needles from the evergreens. Off in the distance he could see a large limb dangling precariously from one of the taller trees at the edge of the property, but thankfully his vehicle parked out front did not appear to be damaged.

Yawning again, he returned to the kitchen, poured himself a mug of coffee, and cradled it tightly to his chest while he waited for it to cool enough to drink. Not two minutes later he heard a noise from the hallway leading to the bedroom and his heartrate sped with pure hope. He took two steps forward and spotted a figure moving towards him. He nearly punched the air with glee that the woman he rescued was not, in fact, comatose until he remembered the coffee he held, so instead he merely cradled the cup and raised himself up on his tip-toes in anticipation of her arrival in the kitchen.

When she turned the corner, he saw that she wore the long-sleeved shirt he provided in addition to a blanket wrapped around her waist like a makeshift skirt. She blinked rapidly as though she had emerged from a dark cave into brilliant sunlight. Really the kitchen was only moderately brighter than the spare bedroom, but he supposed she may have had light sensitivity due to her concussion.

Trying to seem as calm and non-threatening as possible, he said softly to her, "Hello—good morning. How are you feeling?"

She gazed at him for a solid twenty seconds before her eyes seemed to focus and she began with, "I, ah…" She then stopped, cleared her throat, and continued with a bit stronger of a tone. "Okay, I think. My head hurts. And so does my ankle."

He nodded as these two ailments corresponded with her visible injuries. "Yeah it looks like you might have hit your head—there's a cut on your forehead. And I noticed your ankle was bruised last night. You might have fallen and twisted it. I'm not sure, but if you're able to put weight on it that's a good sign."

She nodded a bit distantly, looked down at the floor and then back to him. "Do, um…is there coffee?"

"Oh! Yes of course—here, have a seat." He gestured towards the four-seater table just behind him and then hurried to retrieve a mug for her. "I'm Rick, by the way; not sure if you saw my note."

"Yeah," she rasped out before clearing her throat again. "Thanks for the, um, shirt. Where are my pants?"

He set the mug down in front of the seat nearest her and then pulled the chair out for her to sit in. "Um, in the bathroom hanging over the shower curtain rod—I was hoping they'd dry out. Everything you had was soaking wet. That's, ah, why I undressed you; I was afraid you'd get hypothermia overnight."

She nodded briefly, but did not move towards the table. Instead she only eyed him hesitantly.

Castle's heart clenched in his chest as a concerning through passed through his mind: was this woman afraid of him? He supposed he could not entirely blame her if she was slightly leery. She had woken up mostly naked in a cabin with a man she'd never met, but he didn't want her to be fearful of him. Not sure whether or not his continued explanations would make their situation better, he said, "I, um, I didn't look when I… I put towels over you so I didn't see. I'm not a creep; I promise."

This comment succeeded in getting an almost smile from her. "Thanks for clarifying." She walked forward, sat in the chair he'd pulled out, and picked up the coffee mug, cradling it tightly to her chest.

Moving to the opposite side of the table, Castle sat too and asked, "What's your name?"

"Kate."

He smiled at her delicate tone. "Well it's nice to meet you Kate. I—oh, I forgot. Do you need sugar for your coffee? I'm afraid I don't have milk or cream."

She shook her head. "No this is fine; thank you."

"Well I was just about to make myself some breakfast—oatmeal okay?"

"Oh no I—I should go."

She moved to stand from the chair, but he held out a hand and said, "Wait a second—it's still raining out there. This cabin—the road washes out so I won't be able to drive you back home and I really don't think you should be walking."

She shook her head and insisted, "I'll be fine."

He stood and moved a bit closer to her. "Kate, please. It's no trouble for you to stay here with me and I promise I intend you no harm; I'm just being practical. Plus, I'm concerned since I couldn't wake you last night; you probably have a concussion. Call it the father in me—I have an eight year old daughter."

Kate glanced around the room and then back at him. "Is she here?"

He shook his head. "No; she's back at home with her grandmother."

"This isn't your home?"

"No, it's a cabin I rented in hopes of getting some work done; I live in New York City." After his explanation she nodded her head, sipped her coffee, and then said nothing else. Figuring it was okay to continue with breakfast he began to gather ingredients for their oatmeal. As a man who rarely found himself being quiet, he could not help but chatter on while he readied the pot and measured out the correct amounts of oats and water.

"That really was quite a storm we had last night; you're lucky you ended up here instead of in the lake. That's how I found you, by the way—you actually found me; collapsed on the steps to the cabin. Hopefully you remember some of that, but I know with concussions things can be foggy. I only ever had one myself—back when I was in high school. It was my own fault, of course—I was fooling around, trying to play a prank on someone, but I definitely remember the knot I got at the back of my head and how much it throbbed and—oh! Would you like some aspirin?"

"Please."

He quickly reached for the first aid kit he found stashed in one of the kitchen cabinets as he continued to stir their oatmeal. He slid in onto the table for her and then returned to the pot on the stove so it didn't boil over. "Speaking of last night—I'm not sure we can salvage that shirt you were wearing; it was pretty torn up. I didn't throw it away but you can just keep the one you're wearing; I don't mind."

"Thanks."

Once the oatmeal was simmering, Castle retrieved two bowls from the cabinets along with spoons and napkins. He also retrieved a carton of strawberries from the refrigerator along with the sugar dish, both of which he placed on the center of the table. When the oats were ready, he divided them evenly and placed her bowl in front of her with a pleasant, "Bon appetite!"

"Thank you," she said softly. "This was very kind."

He shook his head, casually dismissing her comment. "No trouble at all; I promise."

* * *

After brushing his teeth and showering, Castle emerged from the bathroom to find Kate wrapped in a blanket as she sat in a green armchair by one of the cabin's many windows. She had her arms wrapped around her shins and her chin resting on her kneecap as she gazed out at the rain. Looking over at her, Castle could not help but feel a little bit sad. Clearly something had happened to her and she was not interested in being too forthcoming about it.

As they ate breakfast, Castle had managed to coax out of her the explanation that she had been out in the woods and gotten herself turned around the darker it became and the heavier it rained. Evidently she, too, was from the city and staying in a family cabin, which she had not frequented in several years and thus was unfamiliar with how the forest had changed in that time. While trying to find her way back, she'd stumbled and fallen down a small hill, tearing her clothing and hitting her head in the process. The rest of her journey was too blurry to remember.

While her story seemed plausible, Castle's gut told him that there was more to it; an element she was holding back from him. Rationally, he understood that they had barely known each other a few hours and so it was unfair of him to expect her to reveal all her innermost secrets to him. Yet, at the same time, he could not suppress his writer's curiosity; he wanted to know the story behind why this beautiful woman had turned up on his doorstep.

Spotting that her mug of tea was abandoned on the table beside the chair, he took it upon himself to make her a fresh one. He filled the electric tea kettle and once the water was ready, poured two mugs and dropped tea bags inside. Carrying them both over to her, he handed out one with a pleasant, "Here; more tea."

She looked up a bit startled but the unfurled her limbs and reached out with a grateful expression. "Thank you, but you really shouldn't feel obligated to do anything for me."

"Please." He waived his hand flippantly in her direction. "I don't mind at all. In fact, I'm only here to help. If, for instance, you'd like to talk about something, I'd be happy to listen."

She let out a breathily laugh and leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs as she cradled the tea mug. "That's very kind Mr. Castle, but we're total strangers."

A grin exploded onto the writer's face as he gazed down at his companion. He was certain he had not revealed his surname to her, which meant she was very familiar with his work, because he also had not revealed his profession. So the woman he rescued was a fan of his; that certainly was an exciting plot twist. Unable to resist calling her out on it, he replied cheekily, "Oh that can't possibly be true—I never told you my last name."

Kate appeared rather startled as she stammered out, "Ah, oh, I, um," but her reaction only caused him to smile more.

"Yeah, you're busted. You read my books?"

Her cheeks flushing a pinkish hue, she confessed, "I might have read one or two."

He hummed, not believing her in the least. He had been on the _Times_ ' Best Seller list enough time to be notable, but he wasn't _that_ famous. She had to have been reasonably familiar with his work to recognize him and that fact could not have made him happier. "Well it's always nice to meet a fan," he hummed out. "And the offers till stands. If you want to talk, I'm here. Otherwise, I'll be over there—trying to construct Derrick Storm's next great adventure."

She mumbled out a thank you before turning back to continue gazing out the window. Castle hovered beside her for a few more moments but then turned and walked over to his desk to sit down in front of her laptop, hoping that Kate would be interested in chatting sooner than later.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"So, what should we talk about? Want to tell me about your family?"

Castle looked over at his companion as they stood side-by-side in the L-shaped cabin kitchen. Kate had kept mostly to herself that day, insisting on taking a nap instead of eating lunch with him, but just after four p.m. she tentatively interrupted him and asked if she could make him dinner as a thank you for everything he'd done so far. He was surprised at her offer and presented a counter one: they would make the meal together. Granted, "meal" was a bit of a stretch of the term. All he had in the fridge were some chicken tenders he intended to grill and eat with salad, but with the weather grilling seemed an unlikely option so he'd cook them in a pan instead. Since she had skipped lunch Castle suspected she might have been rather hungry, so he suggested they begin meal prep just after five in hopes they'd be eating by six.

Kate glanced over at him briefly from where she stood by the sink cutting up a cucumber. "Oh, um, not much to tell there—why don't you tell me about your daughter?"

The writer beamed; as a proud father, he never wanted to turn down the opportunity to gush about how wonderful his child was. "Alexis is amazing, though my opinion is rather bias."

She offered him a soft smile. "She's in…third grade?"

"Just finishing second, actually. She's smart enough that she could probably skip a grade in elementary school, but I don't know…I'm concerned about what she'd miss out on socially. She's kind of an old soul—practically anyone who talks to her thinks she's much older than she really is—and because of that I sometimes think she feels she needs to be more of a grown up than a kid. I worry skipping a grade might encourage that. Instead I'm just going to have her transfer schools to one that'll be more academically challenging—sorry." He shook his head as he used a spatula to flip over the chicken pieces in the fry pan. "That was probably more detail than you were expecting."

She brushed off his concern with. "It's fine. It's nice to see you're such an involved father."

A wry smile crossed his face. "Have to be; I'm her only parent." Kate's eyes flared wide and she apologized quickly, seeming embarrassed. Only then did Castle realize his comment made it seem as though he were widower and he didn't want to mislead his new acquaintance. "Sorry—I mean her mother and I divorced about two years ago and she moved out to California. Alexis doesn't see her mother and Meredith was never…let's say: overly involved in parental details."

That descriptor felt like the understatement of the century. Whenever it came to important decisions like which private school to send their child to, Meredith continually shied away from the conversation saying it was too confusing or it bored her. If she ever did have a suggestion, it was to send their daughter to an arts school that would focus on music and theater. While Castle never wanted to remove the arts from his child's education, it was clear that Alexis enjoyed plays and musicals as an observer only and would never have enjoyed participating in one. Then again, Meredith could not see beyond her own nose enough to understand such things, which was one of the many reasons he had custody of their child.

Kate nodded. "That must be difficult."

The writer nodded and then shrugged. "It can be, but I've always been her primary care giver—and we're not completely alone. Alexis is very close to my mother…and I imagine I'll be leaning on her more and more the closer we get to puberty."

She let out a light laugh. "Yeah, I would think so. I can't even imagine how my dad would have handled that."

"Well that's the thing about parenting—some of the situations you come across you never anticipate handling and then somehow when you're in them instinct takes over and you muddle your way through…or you make a complete mess and traumatize them for life—but that's what therapy is for, right?"

Kate laughed again, a little harder. "Well at least you're prepared for a less-than-positive outcome."

He shrugged. "Every outcome can be a positive one—it all just depends on how you look at it. Take you for example."

"Me?!"

"Yes, you. If you hadn't been out in that storm you wouldn't have hit your head or hurt your ankle…but you also wouldn't have met me, your favorite author."

As he grinned at her, he watched her expression turn incredulous. Setting the knife she held down on the cutting board, she turned to him and folded her arms over her chest. "I don't recall saying you were my favorite author."

"Well favorite…one of your favorites—I'm not picky as long as I'm in the top three somewhere."

"Wow. You sure are confident."

Thoroughly enjoying their banter, he flipped the chicken pieces once more and turned to face her. "Yes, I can be, but in this case I'm just observant. You recognized me here, in this cabin where I'm not exactly looking like my usual self—or how I would be at a public appearance," he said in reference to his week-old stubble and hair, which was not perfectly parted and moussed. "I only provided you with my first name and it was a nickname at that; not the exact one I write under. On top of all that you were disoriented and injured when you awoke this morning. Now I'm not sure exactly how long it took for you to figure out who I was, but it was less than a few hours. If you were only a casual reader I would find that highly unlikely therefore it can only be concluded that you, Kate, are a fan."

For the better part of thirty seconds they locked gazes until, finally, the woman gave up with a shrug and confessed, "I own all your books; I've read them each at least twice. Happy?"

If Castle had been any more pleased with himself in that moment, he might have floated out of his shoes. "Ecstatic. Now, this chicken is ready so how about we sit down and eat?"

* * *

"Please forgive my curiosity, but I really can't help myself—might you indulge me by telling me a bit about yourself. Perhaps, what it is that you do? Or, forgive me if I'm way off base here, are you still in school?" Castle just couldn't help himself. From her body language alone he could tell Kate still wasn't interested in being as open with him as he was with her, but he was hoping she'd say something. The percentage of the conversation he was taking up with tales about himself and his family was getting downright ridiculous. He feared he would soon begin annoying her, which was why he made another effort to find out what was hidden behind her lovely hazel eyes.

"Kind of. I recently graduated from Columbia and I'm going to start the NYPD Academy in June."

Castle's jaw dropped an inch as he processed her statement enough to respond. Rarely was he stunned to the point of speechlessness, but he was in that moment. Never would he have guessed the lovely woman in front of him wanted to be a police officer—not that he had a solid enough perspective of her to guess another profession. A career in law enforcement just seemed so…unexpected.

"Wow, ah, wow! That's really impressive—I bet your parents are very proud."

Her gaze dropped towards her plate and she casually flipped over a lettuce leaf with her fork. "It's, ah, actually just my dad and I now."

Ah, there it was—a small, but he imagined not insignificant missing piece in her puzzle. From just her tone he was able to deduce that her mother's passing had been recent—not too recent, but certainly less than a decade, possibly even less than half of one. The absence weighed on her, as it would anyone, but perhaps more so than average. It probably was not the reason she was roaming about on a dark stormy night, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was somehow related. "I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm sure your father is very proud."

She lifted her head and gave him a nod. "Proud…and unbelievably worried."

He bobbed his head. "Yes, well as the father of a little girl I can appreciate that thought especially since you're all he has—right? You're an only child?" After she nodded in confirmation he said, "Me too."

Kate said nothing else, instead returning her attention to the food plated before her. Though he took a few bites himself, Castle once again found himself distracted by his unexpected house guest, but for an entirely new set of reasons. She was intriguing and had what he assumed to be a tragic back story. He wanted to know all of it—what drove her, what inspired her. He also feared he'd never be able to uncover those details, but he tried not to think about how disappointing that would be.

Ten minutes later, Castle placed their used plates into the sink and glanced out the nearby window to observe a few slivers of light peeking through the cloud-covered sky. "Hey, it finally stopped drizzling I think. I'm going to walk out and check the road to see how flooded it looks. Want to walk with me?"

"Sure."

He quickly dumped the rest of their used dishes and flatware into the sink, squirted some dish soap over the pile, and then turned on the faucet so their items could soak during their short walk. When he turned around, he found Kate seated at the kitchen table lacing up her boots. He retrieved his own shoes and opened the door, but jumped back almost immediately at the nearly freezing air outside. The heavy downpours had stopped right around lunch time, but drizzle along with wind had persisted that afternoon. Evidently, the wind brought with it temperatures far below average. Gazing back to the woman wearing only his shirt and jeans, he realized it would not be warm enough outdoors for her. Stepping away from the door, he unzipped his hooded sweatshirt, the only item of outerwear he had with him, and handed it over to her saying, "Here; it's cold out there."

"Oh…are you sure?"

"Yeah it's chilly out there, but I have more padding than you." He teased as he patted his belly. Once she'd pulled on the sweatshirt, Castle led the way down the path, explaining that the placed covered over in water was about a quarter mile down the drive, close to the main road. As anticipated, water still covered the driveway and surrounding yard, but it was not as deep as he anticipated it being. "I should be able to drive you back to your place tomorrow morning."

"That's good," she said, though her tone was distant. Castle turned around to see that she was facing back towards the cabin and the wooden area that surrounded it.

"Do you know where you are now? I mean, do you recognize this cabin or the lake?"

She hummed. "Kind of. I knew of a lake nearby our cabin, but I never went to it, so it's hard to say for sure."

"Well, if you got here from your cabin on foot, the two can't be that far apart, right?" Castle rationalized. He started walking back towards the cabin gazing at the woods, trying to figure out from where she had come. He, too, was unfamiliar with the area, but he doubted her cabin was more than a mile or two from his; she wouldn't have been able to travel much further on foot, particularly in that storm.

"Yeah, I suppose."

As the chill in the air began to penetrate his flannel shirt, Castle shivered and sped his pace while returning to the house. "You know actually I have to thank you for showing up on my doorstep the way you did—it's given me a good idea for a future book: a rustic cabin, a gruesome murder, and a storm that traps everyone inside. Well, maybe not the storm—that feels a bit too Craven or King for me and I…" His voice drifted off when he realized she was no longer immediately behind him, but had drifted off through the grass to gaze out at the lake.

"Kate?" he inquired as he stepped up just a few feet behind her. When she didn't respond after a few seconds he continued with, "Are you okay?"

She shook her head immediately but it took her almost another thirty seconds to confess, "A gruesome murder—that's what happened to my mother."

The writer sucked in a deep breath. Oh—oh shit. What a fool he was to talk so casually about such an event! True, it was his profession; he lived and breathed murder every day, but those murders weren't real. He could never have known what happened to Kate's mother, so her distress was in no way his fault, but he still felt guilty.

Before he could respond, she turned towards him and he could see tear tracks staining her face. "That's why I read your books again and again, because they make sense; they have endings, explanations."

His eyes darted back and forth as he looked at her, processing her words, until his face contorted with horror when he realized. "Unsolved...they never found her killer?"

"No."

His shoulders rounded and his chin dropped as he gazed down at her. Yes, that was the huge missing puzzle piece in her back story, but now he was ashamed he'd been curious about it, for it was much worse than he anticipated. "Oh, Kate; I'm so sorry."

As though he'd prodded her with an electric shock, she nearly jumped forward and began walking back towards the house. "I—I'm sorry; I shouldn't have."

"There's no reason to apologize. I already told you—I'm a good listener." He tried to keep the mood light as he trailed after her, but it was clear that was no longer possible.

Just inside the cabin door she shrugged off his sweatshirt and thrust it back at him saying, "I'm going to bed."

"Kate-"

"Goodnight, Mr. Castle," she said tersely and then scurried down the hall without ever looking back.

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this unusual caskett meeting :) thanks for your reviews!


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Turn left up here—just beyond that curvy road warning sign."

"Here?" Castle asked, applying the breaks in his Mercedes and switching on the appropriate turn signal. Just as he neared the yellow curved road warning sign he saw the driveway come into view, thought it was difficult as it was tucked in amongst bushes and brush that clearly hadn't been manicured in a while. "I see it."

"Great; it's a long drive—about a quarter mile." Kate warned from the passenger seat. "You can drop me off here if you want."

He glanced at her sideways as he completed the turn. "I'm obviously not going to do that." It would have been immeasurably cruel for him to force her to walk a quarter mile longer than necessary on her injured ankle just because he didn't want to make the drive. That was absurd—what else did he have to do? Other than writing his novel before his publisher fined him for not producing chapters—but he could do that later!

Actually Derek's latest tale was coming along a bit better than he'd anticipated given Kate's arrival in his life—not that he minded. Obviously he would have helped her no matter his personal situation, but since she'd gone to be early the night before, he'd made decent progress on the chapter he was writing. After he forced himself to stop obsessing over the fact that her mother was murdered, that was. Thank god the cabin didn't have an internet connection or he probably would have tried to research it based on what little information he knew; sometimes, he truly couldn't help himself.

That morning when he awoke he found Kate already in the kitchen holding a mug of coffee. Evidently she'd already explored the path leading to the cabin and found the water low enough to drive through. She then said, "I don't want to rush you, but I'd like you to take me home as soon as you can. Or, if you want, I can walk."

Of course Castle immediately refuted her walking plan and suggested they eat breakfast before they went as there was no rush. Though she did not appear happy about it, she agreed to share oatmeal with him under the condition that they would depart as soon as he was showered and changed. After that, she spoke no more until they were in the car and she began providing directions once they were out on the main road.

As he showered and readied himself to return Kate to her cabin, Castle couldn't help but feel the slightest bit sad, though he knew such a feeling was unfair. They were in many ways total strangers. Yes, he had helped her—one might go as far as to say that he saved her—but it was unfair of him to assume that because of her confession they would become close friends. He accepted the probability that they would not see each other again after he dropped her off at her cabin even though it made him sad, which was why he drug his feet a little while getting ready and tried to find any excuse possible to remain in her presence for a little bit longer. There was just something about her he couldn't put his finger on, but it made him want to get involved.

"Ah, there we are." Castle commented when her cabin came into view. It seemed largely similar to the one he had rented, perhaps even slightly larger. The main difference was that the front porch was smaller, only extending across half the house, not the whole thing.

"I really appreciate you driving me, Mr. Castle," Kate said as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Ah…yeah. No problem." He glanced down at her hand gripping the door handle and his brow furrowed, fearing she might leap out of the car while it was still moving. "I—hey. Is the front door open?" He asked when he stopped his car beside the black sedan—presumably hers—in front of the house and he could see into the space.

"Oh. I, ah, guess the storm blew it open."

Castle turned off the vehicle's engine and gazed skeptically at his companion. Though her comment was plausible, her tone made it sound as though even she did not believe it. "Let me go check inside just in case."

"Oh, no you don't—"

"I insist. Remember: I write murder mysteries for a living," he added with a smile to soften the blow. Yes, it seemed unlikely a vicious killer was lying in wait inside the cabin like a cheap slasher film, but he couldn't in good conscience drive away without checking for himself.

Castle stepped out of his vehicle and walked steadily towards the cabin and pushed open the door all the way with one hand while hovering in the doorway and surveying the scene inside. From that vantage point he could see the kitchen and living area, both of which had lights on. He found this strange as it seemed odd that someone going for a walk in the middle of the day as Kate had claimed would leave lights on, but it did not stop him from entering the space.

Once inside, the writer began looking over the finer details of the cabin. He spotted three medium-sized cardboard boxes, two sitting on the floor in front of the couch and one sitting on the kitchen table. He could just barely see into the ones on the floor and noted that they were both about half full of belongings, leading him to wonder if Kate was either moving items into or out of the cabin.

Progressing further into the space, he crossed though the living area towards where he could see a hallway disappearing behind the kitchen area. There, he found three small bedrooms and a bathroom, all of which appeared empty, though being the mystery writer he was he poked his head into the bedroom closets just to be safe.

Satisfied that there were no unsavory individuals lurking about in the home, Castle returned to the main living area intent upon vacating the space and leaving Kate alone, though when he caught sight of her hovering by the doorway any thought of goodbye died on his lips and his brow immediately wrinkled with concern. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest and her chin dropped down. As she huddled by the doorway she looked like a victim forced to return to the scene of their crime, but as far as he was aware nothing horrible had taken place in the cabin. But then again—maybe it had. Maybe the cabin was the sight of her mother's grisly demise. He wasn't sure if that was the case, but it was he didn't feel as though he could—or should—leave her alone.

"Kate? What's going on?"

"No-nothing; I'm fine." She insisted, turning away from him and walking towards the kitchen. He shut the cabin door and followed her as further proof he wasn't just going to walk away from her.

"It's not nothing if you're upset. You can tell me what it is, Kate. I know we haven't known each other that long but…well, I'll listen to anything you want to say."

She shook her head and refused to look at him. "I'm fine, really; you can g-go."

He heard the way her voice hitched on her final word and knew she was in tears or very close to them. His gut clenched and his mind jumped back to the night before when she stood at the edge of the lake looking sad and broken. Shaking his head, he stepped up behind her. "I'm not leaving. Hey—it's okay." He tentatively touched her shoulder and watched as she used the long sleeves of his shirt to cover her face. "Would you like a hug? C'mere."

Without waiting for an affirmative response, he snaked his left arm over the top of her shoulders. When she didn't shy away, he used it to tug her closer as he wrapped his right arm around her mid back. She kept her hands up over her face but did lean her head into the crook of his neck. He could feel her body trembling as she cried, and skimmed his hands across her back in as soothing a manner as he could muster.

They stood that way for nearly two minutes before she sniffled out, "I'm sorry; I'm usually better than this—stronger."

"You don't have to apologize for being emotional; that's only human."

She sniffled again and pulled away from him, shaking her head as she walked over to the counter to pick up a napkin and use it to dab at her cheeks. "It's just this place. It…"

When she didn't continue her thought after over thirty seconds, Castle jumped in with, "Maybe I can help? Can I move these boxes somewhere? Or help you pack? Or are you unpacking?"

A blip of laughter escaped her lips as she moved from the kitchen back towards the main living area. "I don't even know what I'm doing. My father's just went into rehab and I came out here to tidy up since he was here during his last bender. I was cleaning and I saw her pictures and I thought…maybe I should take them down because they might trigger him—I don't know. I don't know what would. I don't know how…how to do th-this."

As her crying began again, Castle walked over and placed a soft hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently back and forth. God, he felt for her; he truly did. Her mother was murdered and now her father was in rehab? If she had just graduated college, he doubted she was much out of her early twenties. Such events would have been a lot for someone his age to handle, but with her being so young he imagined the burden felt all the heavier.

"I just…I don't know what I thought. My mother is why he's in rehab—coping with her death, I mean; it triggered his alcoholism. So I thought…I thought if he were to come back here and see her pictures it would trigger him again. That's why I went to put them away, but the pictures and trinkets… putting them away felt like losing her all over again. Like the wound had just be ripped open and I—I'm sorry." She stopped suddenly, whipped around and backed two steps away from him shaking her head. "I shouldn't be…I'm sorry. You can just go."

He didn't move from the spot on which he stood. "I'm not leaving, Kate. It's fine; we can keep talking about whatever you want."

She sniffed and brushed away some more tears with the now very crumpled napkin. "I usually don't talk about it, actually—not any of it. I don't even know why I'm telling you."

Castle shrugged and slipped his hands down into his pockets. "I have that kind of face. Plus, I did tell you I'd be willing to talk. Why don't we sit? Or should I make some tea?"

She shook her head, but did sit down on the couch. He sat beside her a cushion away. "Do you want to tell me when she died?"

"Ah...bout three and a half years ago."

He pressed his lips together and nodded, mentally calculating how old she might have been at that time. High school, he guessed. "I'm sorry to hear that; I can only imagine how difficult it would be to bury a parent when...you were a teenager?"

"Nineteen, yeah."

Okay, so maybe that didn't mean high school, but certainly not long after—perhaps just as she was beginning college. That certainly would not have been an ideal time to have a life changing event like losing a parent—not that there really was an ideal time for something as horrible as that. "Rough age."

"Yeah…I'd just started at Stanford—I was only a semester in—and my whole life just fell apart, or so it seemed. I transferred back to Columbia, tried to pick up the pieces but…it was really, really hard."

"I'm sure you did the best you could."

"Yeah…."

They sat in a comfortable silence for another full minute before Kate looked over at him sheepishly and said, "Really, you can go; don't feel obligated to sit here with me."

"If you want me to go, Kate, I'll go, but I also don't mind staying. Are you sure there isn't anything I can help you with?" he offered, nodding towards the boxes. Her upper lip twitched and he noticed her glance towards the kitchen and then back at him so he prompted further with, "Seriously—anything."

"Maybe…if you don't mind…"

"Not at all." He pushed himself into a standing position and waited for her to do the same and then trailed behind her on the way towards the kitchen. Once they reached the table, he noticed that it actually held nearly a dozen liquor bottles of varying fullness. He had not seen them when he first entered because they were blocked by the cardboard box, but seeing them made it clear just what kind of a bender her father had been on before entering rehab.

"Can—could you take these with you? I don't think I can look at them any longer, not even to throw them away. I'll empty them for you—if-if that's okay?"

He bobbed his head and picked up two of the bottles to aid in dumping their contents down the sink. "Sure. It's not a problem, Kate." He wasn't sure about the recycling situation back at his cabin, but if necessary he would take them back with him to the city and recycle them appropriately in his building. It really was very little effort at all to him and if it helped Kate he was happy to do it.

The young woman signed as she turned a vodka bottle upside-down and let the remaining contents drain into the sink. "Last night I…I understood it. For three years I've been so angry at him for losing control, but I was here alone and I understood how it might just be easier to numb the pain again and again." She paused to look up and meet eyes with the man that stood beside her. "It was scary. I'd never felt like I needed that kind of escape before, but I always had school and my dad to take care of—something to focus on, but two nights ago I just I couldn't. I took a drink, and then another and then suddenly I just...I realized how I couldn't be like him but I could feel it slipping so I ran away—literally," she added while quirking her lips upwards.

Castle's brow knit together as he formulated the story of two nights prior in his mind given the new information. Kate hadn't just been hiking in the woods when the storm came about; she'd run from her cabin during the height of it, which certainly explained the state in which she turned up at his doorstep. He watched her empty another bottle into the sink and studied her face closely. She was so young and beautiful, yet her eyes still held so much pain—more than they needed to at her age. He was glad she was speaking to him about what happened; it was far better than keeping it down inside, but he did not entirely feel qualified to help her as much as she may have needed.

"I don't mean this offensively because I think I'd resist this too if the tables were turned but: have you thought about speaking to someone professional?"

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. "Why? You don't think I'll pass my academy psych eval?"

"No," he clarified, "I'm just thinking running out into torrential rainstorms might not be the best way to solve your problems."

She nodded and then exhaled loudly. "Fair enough. I don't know, Castle. I'm pretty stubborn, I'd like to try and work through this on my own, on my own time."

He nodded, feeling that he would respond in the same way at her age and situation. "I understand."

They finished emptying the bottles and Kate loaded them into the empty cardboard box on the table. He offered to help carry the other boxes to a storage area somewhere for her, but she refused with, "Honestly, you've done more than enough. I really, really appreciate everything you've done for me already—you probably even saved my life." She added with a small but gracious smile.

Given the state in which he found her, he felt it safe to conclude that, at the very least, he'd saved her from a nasty bout of hypothermia, but as he chose to see more good in the world than bad, he did not think anyone else in his situation would have acted differently. "I just did what anyone would have done."

She shrugged. "Still, I owe you one."

As Castle could sense their time together winding down, he suddenly felt compelled not to leave her presence. After what they'd been through together in, admittedly, a short time period he simply could not accept walking away from her with no means of communication; without ever hearing from her again. Not one to call in favors unless absolution necessary—and certainly not so quickly—he began carefully, "I think I know how you can make it up to me: give me a call in a few weeks when we're both back in the city. We can get coffee and you can tell me what it's like at the police academy."

Her cheeks flushed and she dipped her gaze away from his. "Oh... I don't..."

"Please?" He took a tentative step towards her and tried to twist the situation to his advantage as he always did. "Honestly this is all just because I'm incredibly nosy about the process of becoming a police officer—I might even use it in one of my books someday. Please?" he repeated when she still appeared hesitant.

She stared at him for the better part of thirty sections before finally she relented and said, "Ah, yeah okay; deal."

Castle grinned and asked for a piece of paper to write down his information. She fumbled with kitchen drawers for a few minutes but only came up with a pen, so she handed him a napkin in lieu of paper. He ripped it in half, put his number on one half and requested she write hers on the other. Once they'd exchanged, he hefted the empty alcohol bottle filled box under one arm and walked with her to the cabin door.

"Give me a call, Kate; even if you just want to talk."

She nodded and hung back in the doorway as he walked out of the cabin. "Bye Castle; thanks again."

Stopping beside his vehicle, he looked back to her and nodded. "Always."

* * *

 **A/N** : This will be the last "flashback" chapter - we will return to "present day" in Ch 5

Oh and I've had several asks about this a few of them anon so just for the record: FFYG is the acronym for the first (pilot) episode of Castle -"Flowers for Your Grave". sorry for not clarifying earlier!


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

-Present Day-

"My books? Someone is recreating the murders from my books? This is unbelievable!" Though his detective friend had explained the situation to him while driving them to the Twelfth precinct, Castle still struggled to comprehend this new and unexpected reality; it was a plot twist he definitely never would have seen coming.

Though she did appear sympathetic and more friend-like while they were in the car, now that they were up on the homicide floor Kate's all-business Detective exterior had returned. "Well, believe it—because it's happening."

She led the way through the bullpen, a place he had visited many times, and they were stopped by her captain, Roy Montgomery, who had been regularly joining his who's-who of Manhattan poker games for several years. The captain nodded to the writer. "Mr. Castle. Thank you for joining us."

Castle reached out and shook the man's hand. "Captain—always nice to see you; wish it were under better circumstances."

"Likewise."

"Castle." Kate called out to her friend. When she looked at him, she beckoned him forward with a hand gesture. "Follow me."

Curious, he trailed after her until their direction led him to deduce where she was taking him. "Interrogation? Really Kate?" He'd watched many times from the observation room as she pounced on suspects until they tearfully confessed. Those shows were quite thrilling for him to watch. He had not, however, been on the other side of the glass for many, many years and was not anxious to repeat it.

She stopped just in front of the door to Interrogation One. "Sorry its protocol. Espo will be the one actually interrogating you since we're…personally involved," she explained in reference to her colleague. When she opened the door, Castle saw the Latino detective already seated at the small table with several file folders in front of him.

Though he knew full well he had killed no one, Castle's heart rate still sped at this scene. His involvement was evidently much more serious than he originally anticipated. Turning to Kate he told her quietly, "I didn't have anything to do with any of this."

She offered him an almost invisible smile as she said, "I know." He quirked on side of his lips in reflection of her lighter expression, but when her smile dropped, his did as well. "Please, let's just get this over with," she said and then she led the way into interrogation.

* * *

"So—fan mail? Check." Castle slid his hands into his pockets and nodded in turn to both detectives as they exited interrogation and reconvened more informally in the hallway. "You should have it first thing tomorrow morning."

Esposito nodded. "Appreciate it." He then walked off towards his desk leaving the friendly duo behind.

Castle glanced in the Latino detective's direction and exhaled. Over the years he had come to know Kate's team members reasonably well, both through interactions at her office and ones in more social settings. He never had cause to dislike Esposito, but he couldn't say he was a huge fan in that particular moment. He felt as though the detective had been a bit too aggressive when questioning him considering he was as upset by the two copy-cat murders as anyone else, but at least Kate believed in his innocence; that was all that really mattered.

Turning back to her, he said, "Listen, I'd actually like to help more, if I could."

"You don't have to," she promised. "The fan mail will give us a place to start, hopefully."

"That's just it. This guy, whoever he is, is using my stories for evil and while Gina might tell you there's no such thing as bad publicity, this definitely isn't something I want; I want this guy caught. Please?" he added, clasping his hands in front of him when her expression didn't soften despite his explanation as to why he hoped to remain involved. "At least let me help go through the mail; I might be able to spot something out of the ordinary."

She tilted her head to the side as an expression of amusement crossed her face. "Really Castle? How often do you actually read your fan mail?"

"More often than you."

Her eyes narrowed momentarily at his dig, but then she shrugged and gazed back towards the bullpen. "Well, I…I guess it couldn't hurt, but I'm going to have to run it by Montgomery first."

He nodded. "Sure, just text me and let me know it's okay; I'll start making phone calls about that mail."

She nodded as they separated. "Thanks Castle."

* * *

"Dad! Thank god!"

Castle was nearly knocked to the ground the moment he stepped into his apartment and was tackled by his petite red-headed offspring.

"Is everything okay? Is Kate okay?"

"Everything's fine, sweetheart; you don't need to worry. Kate just wanted my help with one of her cases."

Alexis pulled back and gazed up at her father. "But why? Do we know the victim?"

He shook his head. "No, but the murder appeared…well the killer made it look like a scene from one of my books."

Her jaw dropped. "Oh! That's awful!"

He stroked his hand down her cheek. "It is, but you don't need to worry at all, okay? Our building is secure and just in case, Kate has a squad car parked out front and it'll stay there all night. She doesn't believe we're in danger, but it's just a precaution."

Alexis nodded and gave him a quick hug. "I hope they find whoever's doing this."

He brushed his lips over the top of her head and said in as light a tone as he could muster, "C'mon—this is Kate we're talking about; you know she'll find him." After she nodded, he bopped her on the nose with his index finger and reminded, "Now it's time for bed."

"Tell me about it! I have more studying to do tomorrow!"

He chuckled at her exasperation and then bid her goodnight before making his way towards his office and pouring himself a glass of scotch. Standing there, admiring the shelf of his published works, he could not help but feel compelled to do more—as much as he could. Yes, his agents had promised to messenger his latest batch of fan mail to the Twelfth Precinct first thing the following morning, but that wasn't enough—not when two innocent people were dead.

Castle sat his scotch glass down on the corner of his desk and walked to the shelf just across from it were one set of his titles rested. He immediately pulled _Flowers for Your Grave_ off the shelf and tucked it under his arm. It had been a little while since he'd re-read that one and perhaps gazing through the murder scene that had been replicated would provide him a clue. As he was searching for _Hell Hath No Fury_ , the other book that had a copycat murder, he came across _Rising Strom_ and paused. _Rising Storm_ had been the book he was writing when he first met Kate and though he hadn't thought about it in years, as he stroked his finger down the spine he recalled the first time they met for real—when they were both back in the city.

With her phone number feeling as though it was burning a hole in his wallet, Castle continually fought an internal battle between how badly he wanted to call her and how long he should wait so he didn't seem too strange or creepy. He managed to wait until he was back in the city for eight days before calling, but she didn't pick up; he was only able to leave a voice mail. She didn't respond to his message for two agonizing days and even then it was only to say that she was too busy with the academy to meet up. It took him almost two more weeks to wear her down with his endless persistence before she agreed to see him—and only briefly for coffee.

When they finally met at a café together, they ended up talking for two and a half hours, mostly about personal subjects. He asked her about her father; she inquired about Alexis. By the time she announced she had to go, they'd hardly spoken at all about the police academy so he'd insisted they "had to" meet up again and they scheduled another time later that week; that meeting ended up being an hour and forty-five minutes.

Again and again they met for coffee and then dinner when she came over to meet Alexis and his mother. Shortly after that he went out to dinner with her and her father. Soon enough they were seeing each other at least once a week, speaking almost daily. She had become one of the dearest friends he'd ever known in his entire life. She was family and he would do anything to help her. True, in this particular instance, solving the murder was part of her job, so his assistance was not a favor of the personal nature, but that didn't matter. He certainly had a personal stake in this case and, taking a leaf out of her book, he decided he would be involved as long as it took to find the killer and bring him to justice.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I really don't think Cabot's our guy." Castle scurried after his partner as they stepped off the elevator in the precinct. The man in question was being processed at that moment and would very shortly be seated behind an interrogation where he had no doubt the brilliant detective would do everything in her power to get a confession out of him, but he didn't think she'd succeed.

Kate stopped walking so abruptly that Castle nearly walked into her and he had to hop backwards a step to avoid a collision. Crossing her arms over her chest she said, "I'm sorry—did you not see his ultra-creepy shrine to you?"

Castle huffed out a breath. Yes, he had seen the shrine and he couldn't say he was thrilled about it. He also could not say that he hadn't seen one before from one of his "fans." And, okay, that was a picture shown to him by a fan at a signing event, so not quite the same thing, but also not grounds for calling the man something he wasn't. "He's crazy—kooky—but not a murderer."

"Says what evidence?"

"My gut instinct."

The detective rolled her eyes dramatically before turning and continuing the path towards her desk. "Which does not hold up in a court of law."

"But don't you see—it's too easy! Readers would never buy it!" There was no shocking twist ending; no hook. His readers wouldn't buy it and thus he refused as well.

Kate stopped at her desk, shrugged off her blazer, and removed the gun holster from her hip. Turning to him to clarify her stance she said, "What I see is a disturbed man, irrefutable evidence, and a connection to all three victims—that's the whole case, Castle."

"Then give me access to your files," he said, intent on using them to prove that, though it was a rare occurrence, he was right and she was not.

The detective snorted. "Not a chance."

He stepped up to her, softening his tone. "Please?" When she gave no indication of relenting he resorted to bribery. "C'mon—I'll buy you something pretty. I'll send you an Alexis anywhere you want on your next girls' weekend. Think how fun it would be to have girl's weekend in Paris!"

"You're not sending us to Paris."

"Alexis'd totally go."

"No, she wouldn't—not during the school year," Kate challenged.

He huffed out a breath as she was completely correct. "So I'll send you this summer."

"Castle, no."

Despite the fact that she pulled out her chair and moved to sit down and thus clearly believed their discussion to be over, the writer persisted. He moved quickly around to the opposite side of her desk and hunched over her with his hands clasped together in front of him. "Please Kate? Please, please, please let me look at your files."

She shot him the same motherly scolding glance she usually did when he was getting himself into trouble. "Castle—enough."

"C'mon Kate –what's the harm in me taking a little peek? You wouldn't want to put the wrong man behind bars, would you?" Though his tone rang with innocence, her eyes narrowed in his direction and he knew he was wearing her down—albeit a bit backhandedly but he'd take the win however he could.

"He's not the wrong man."

"So let me look."

"I—fine. God, fine." She grunted and shoved the file folder in his direction.

Grinning with pride, Castle picked up the folder and sat down in the chair beside her desk so that he could open it in his lap. Almost too proud to be able to read properly, he gazed over at her and she typed in her network password to unlock her computer and began clicking her way through her email inbox.

That moment was far from the first time he'd sat in the "guest chair" beside Kate's desk. In fact, he'd probably visited her once a month on average during her tenure as a detective. He'd even observed her on a few cases, but that observation was mostly passive. He asked questions or occasionally made comments about a case if he thought of something relevant they hadn't, but he had never been this involved before and, despite the overarching horrors surrounding the situation, he found that he very much enjoyed it, particularly watching her. Seeing Kate Beckett fully entrenched in "detective mode" always increased his amazement with her.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

She didn't bother looking at him as she asked, "What?"

"Us. Working together."

She rotated her head towards him, her jaw half hanging open as though he'd launched into a theory about aliens or moon landing conspiracies. "I'm most certainly not enjoying this—you're being a pain in my ass!"

He twisted his lips to the side, unconvinced. "You're enjoying it a little bit."

She rolled her eyes. "Just shut up and read the file, Castle."

"Whatever you say, detective." But instead of looking at the file, he continued to look at her as she turned back towards her computer screen. A nearly undetectable smile played on his lips and his heart swelled with pride. She was enjoying their time together. Perhaps not as much as he, but that was only because she was in work mode, but she was enjoying it; he was sure of it.

Though he tried to turn his attention to the folder in his lap, Castle found his eyes drifting back towards the detective as her hands skirted across the keyboard while she typed out an email. Strangely, in that moment he recalled the moment she'd run into his apartment announcing that not only had she made detective, but she was the youngest woman ever to do so in the NYPD. He had been deliriously proud of her as he pulled her into his arms and spun her around while Alexis cheered from a few feet away. He loved sharing that moment with her. Actually, he loved sharing all her career milestones with her both happy and sad.

Castle recalled the day she graduated from the academy, the first traffic ticket she wrote, and the first arrest she made. He remembered all her promotions and accommodations with pride, and the first time she took a bullet to the vest with utter terror. The moment she showed up at his apartment with a heavily bandaged arm after a bullet missed her vest for the first time had nearly sent him to his knees with horror, but the night he remembered most was the first and only one she spent crying in his arms after confessing to investigating her mother's case only to have found no more leads than the detectives had nearly a decade earlier.

They had been through so much over their seven year friendship, which was why their bond was so strong. He also suspected it was the thing that actually made them a great team which, strangely, was not something he had seriously considered before, but he hoped to explore it further—after he proved Cabot was innocent and the real killer was found.

* * *

Stepping out of the Italian bistro and out onto the sidewalks of Manhattan, Castle smiled at the beautiful woman who had waited outside for him to pay for their meal so as not to block the cramped entry way. Her expression mirrored his and his heart fluttered in his chest at the recollection of the fact that the prior ninety minutes had been some of his favorite of the prior month—if not longer. "Dinner was good."

"Yeah, it was."

"We, ah, we've made a pretty good team these past few days, haven't we?" Now that Harrison Tisdale had been charged with three counts of homicide, their case was solved, and his name was no longer in danger of being related to horrific _actual_ murders. Truly, it was a twist he hadn't seen coming, but he took a certain amount of pride in the fact that he'd been able to pick up on some clues she hadn't—as well as prove Cabot innocent. As much fun as he had playing detective, he was glad the case was solved so no more innocent people would be harmed, yet also sad as it meant their time working together had come to a close.

She let out a breathy laugh and slid her hands down into her coat pockets. "Something like that."

"What? C'mon—we took down the killer!"

"We?"

"You." He corrected as she had been the one to actually cuff the guy, but he'd knocked the gun out of Tisdale's hand! Granted, that had been after he accidentally got himself taken as a hostage—but that was semantics. "But I helped."

"Yes, and I appreciate that help, but now I have to get back to the paperwork you forced me away from."

She moved towards the street presumably to hail a cab, but he reached out and hooked his hand in the crook of her elbow, holding her steady against the façade of the restaurant. "Forced? Not at all; you had to eat. Besides, you've had too much wine to go back to work now," he rationalized.

"Half a glass is not too much wine—you're the one that had three glasses."

"Had to finish the bottle. C'mon," he sighed and linked their arms together, too tipsy and happy to notice the side-eye she was giving him. "I'll walk you home—yes, home. You can finish your paperwork tomorrow. Think of this as your continued reward for a job well done; dinner wasn't nearly enough."

She did not protest him leading her towards her apartment, which was just a few blocks from their favorite Italian place, but she felt the need to address his confusion nevertheless. "You do realize this is my job, right? I don't need rewards."

"I disagree. You're extraordinary and should always be praised because what you do is amazing." He promised her.

She said nothing else during their ten minute walk. He once again brought up the completely awesome moment during which he disarmed their killer—a tale he knew he would happily recount time and time again in the coming months—but she seemed content to walk along beside him quietly and let him have his moments of gloating. It wasn't until they crossed the sidewalk in front of her building that she pulled her arm away from his and walked around in front of him to stop his progress.

Gazing up at him sweetly, she said, "Thanks again for dinner Castle—and for your help. You're right; it was nice working together."

He grinned, endlessly proud of her confession. "Which means you'll miss it."

"Oh, I don't know about that…"

"What? Yeah, you totally will. We always have fun together—like tonight. It was…kind of like a date."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah right."

"No, it definitely could have been a date." Maybe it was the third glass of wine talking, but suddenly calling his dinner with Kate a date was becoming the best idea he'd had in years. Why couldn't their meal have been considered a date? They were friends, good friends, who enjoyed each other's company. They laughed, drank, and he swapped some of his shrimp for a few bites of her chicken. Practically the only thing that disqualified their meal from a date was the fact that they weren't ending the evening in bed together, but the more he thought about it, that didn't seem like such a terrible idea either.

Kate's eyes fluttered with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "Except we don't date, Castle."

She turned towards her apartment building but he reached out and snagged the arm of her coat, holding her in place. From their position, the shadows from the street lights and nearby liquor store window were casting across her face in such a way that it only highlighted one eye and half of one cheekbone, but for some reason it made her seem irresistibly beautiful to him. "But we…we could."

She stared at him for fifteen seconds before shaking her head and sighing out, "Okay, I think it's time to say goodnight because you're starting to get crazy and—what are you doing?" She half gasped when he used his grip on her coat sleeve to draw her body into his.

"I don't know," he replied honestly as he snagged her waist with the opposite hand and moved the one on her coat sleeve to gently cradle her jaw. He heard her breath quicken when he lowered his face to hers, nudging their noses together and then grazing his lips gently atop hers in what was their very first kiss. He hovered with his lips just millimeters above hers for a moment, waiting for her to react, but when she didn't, he lowered his mouth again and kissed her with a bit more intensity. She tilted her head upwards to return their kiss, but only for three seconds before she pulled back suddenly and pushed him away with her palms flat against his chest.

"Castle no—don't."

More than a little stunned he took a half step back and felt his gut turn over when he realized she didn't look playfully or excited, but mildly horrified. "I—I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you I just-"

"I have to go." She announced abruptly. Then she spun around and practically ran into her building leaving the mystery writer behind on the sidewalk wondering why the hell he'd thought it was a good idea to kiss her—and how the hell he was going to fix it.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Thank you for coming." Castle greeted his best friend not with the usual one-armed hug or the brush of his lips against cheek, but instead by simply opening the door and giving her a breadth of space to step inside. Two days had passed since _the kiss_ and they'd barely spoken since—a true rarity for them.

On his way home from her apartment that night he'd texted out an apology, thinking he'd hear from her by morning, but he did not. He gave her a few more hours to decompress and settle her mind around what happened and then he called her, but she sent the call direct to her voicemail after just three rings. It took another frustrating thirty-six hours before she finally responded to his relentless texting asking her to call or visit him so they could discuss what had happened.

Honestly, he couldn't understand it; she had never behaved this way towards him before. Given his tendency to jam his sized-thirteen shoe into his mouth he had upset her before, but usually with a little groveling and a heartfelt apology they were back to normal in no time. Now, she seemed genuinely hurt by him, but he could hardly fathom how a mostly innocent kiss while he had been a bit tipsy would have caused such a reaction from her.

As he shut the door and she shrugged off her coat, Kate avoided his gaze and said, "Yeah well you begged me to so…"

Castle huffed out a breath as he took her coat. "Kate c'mon—please don't act like this."

"I'm not acting like anything."

He reached out and gently held the crook of her elbow, preventing her from turning away from him. "You are—you're being unnecessarily passive aggressive and that's not us; we don't do that to each other." He watched her swallow harder than normal and knew she knew he was right, so he reached out and held onto her other forearm gently so that they faced each other squarely for his apology.

"I'm sorry if I upset you when I kissed you; I promise that was not my intention. I got caught up in the moment and I…I don't know what happened. All I know is that I'm sorry if I hurt you. Please, please don't let this ruin our friendship." During their two days of radio silence that was the one thought that had him waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. He couldn't stand it if he lost her; he just couldn't stand it. She didn't want to be in a romantic relationship with him? Fine. He might struggle with the disappointment and his ego would certainly take a little while to recover, but she meant so much to him he knew they'd work it out, which was why he'd been so persistent in communicating with her. The longer they went without talking the more he feared she didn't want to work things out.

Her tentative expression relaxed ever so slightly and she shook her head. "It's not…ruining our friendship."

His lips quirked upward with relief, but only momentarily. Sliding his hands down her forearms so he could grip onto her palms he said, "Then please be honest with me. Did I really make you uncomfortable? I promise I didn't mean to."

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink hue and she pulled her hands away from his to skirt her fingertips over her forehead and tuck a chunk of hair behind her left ear. Her right hand landed at the crest of her jaw and her left arm wrapped around her waist. "I know you didn't and it wasn't…I'm not…it was a nice kiss."

Castle could not quite read his friend's expression. The way she stumbled over her words indicated nervousness and it gave him hope that his kiss had startled her more than upset her, but there was a mysterious emotion in the far corners of her eyes that he couldn't quite interpret so he continued carefully. "It was a nice kiss. Would you like to do it again? You can tell me." Though he maintained a playful smile, her eyes darkened and she turned from him.

"We shouldn't."

"Why not? It doesn't have to be anything serious. We can just…see what happens."

"No, Castle."

Her tone was so final it confused him. Walking around so he could see her face he asked, "Why?"

"Because."

"That's not a reason. Kate?" he prompted after thirty seconds of silence passed between them. When she gazed up at him again, the rose color to her cheeks had returned and she looked similar to the way Alexis had the day she broke the lamp in his office.

"I…I have real feelings for you."

His throat suddenly sucked dry of its moisture, he croaked out, "What?" because he was not certain he heard her correctly both because her words were unexpected and since she had mumbled.

He watched as she sucked in a deep breath, set her shoulders, and gazed at him steadily. "I have…feelings for you; I have for a while."

Castle's heart tumbled over in his chest. The uncertain expression he wore quickly morphed into a full-face grin and he sighed out, "Oh, Kate."

She dropped her gaze and began looking like she broke the lamp again. "I'm sorry."

"What? No; no, don't apologize. C'mere." Without hesitating Castle wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders and pulled her into a hug, only closing his eyes and relaxing once her hands were at his spine. He nuzzled his head against hers and said, "You could have told me." True, if she had brought it up out of the blue, he would have been surprised for sure, but definitely not resistant to the idea; quite the opposite in fact.

"I didn't want to ruin what we had—our friendship."

He slid away from her enough to rest his hands at her shoulders and gaze down at her with a smile. "What if we just made it better?"

Her brow knit and she took a half step back from him. "But you...you don't..."

He stepped in and slid his fingertips beneath her jaw, giving her another ear-to-ear grin. "What? Think you're beautiful? Extraordinary? One of the most amazing people I've ever met?"

"Castle…"

He fought to chuckle at her embarrassment. "What? All those things are true. I guess… because of how we met, how this started I thought we'd friend-zoned ourselves too much but I'd like to give this a shot—a real shot." When they first met, he'd been too focused on helping her to actual feel any sort of attraction towards her. Plus, at that point they were at completely different stages in their lives and their age-gap felt more significant. As time passed and their relationship blossomed into one that was a friendship edging on family his feelings deepened almost without him realizing, but he had never actually considered acting on them until two nights prior, thinking that they spent so many years as friends, perhaps they were destined to remain that way, but he had absolutely no issue with exploring other possibilities.

"Are you sure?"

Unable to resist how adorable she seemed with her voice so timid, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers very briefly and then reached out to grab onto her hand, tugging her along with him as he turned towards his office. "C'mere I want to show you something."

Castle led the way around behind his desk and dropped Kate's hand so that he could rifle through his desk drawers until he procured the small navy-blue notebook he was in search of. Flipping open the cover, he thumbed through a few pages until he found one that would sufficiently convey what he wished and then he handed it to her.

"What's this? A new book?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe; not sure yet. It's just a rough collection of story snippets and ideas right now—all inspired by you."

Her jaw hung open. "M-me?"

He nodded and tapped his index finger to the page. "Nikki Heat, detective extraordinaire. She's amazing, just like you."

Kate gazed down at the page, skimmed it, and then flipped it over to look at the next one before lifting her eyes to meet his. "I...I don't know what to say...I mean, are you committed to the name?"

Of all the responses he expected, that was not one of them. "What do you mean?"

"She sounds like a stripper."

"What? No!" The writer balked. "She's just sexy. Plus think of all the titles: Heat Wave, In Heat, Raging Heat..."

Her eyes flared wide. "You want to make it a series?"

He smiled playfully as he took the notebook from her and set it back down on the desk. "Gotta do something now that I killed off Storm, right?" Without waiting for her to respond, he reached out and hook his arm around her waist, pulling her body into his. "So what do you say, Kate? Should we finish what we started the other night?" He brought his lips to the underside of her jaw where he found her pulse point and closed his lips over it, sucking slightly. He felt her hand skim over his chest as she leaned into him but when his fingertips began creeping down over her backside she said his name warningly.

Castle lifted his head and gazed at her with a cocky smile. "Whatsamatter Kate? There's no need to be shy; I've already seen you naked."

"Wha—Castle!" She squeaked out and took a large step away from him.

"It's true."

When he reached out for her again, she hopped back out of his reach. Folding her arms over her chest she said, "I thought you said you didn't look!"

"Well I looked a little bit." It hadn't been in a creepy leering sort of way, but he had inadvertently seen more than he intended to and the mental image stuck with him; that wasn't his fault! As Kate seemed to be looking progressively more annoyed, he defended his actions with, "Seriously I tried not to! I imagine you would have found it comical had you been awake."

She arched one eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"

He nodded. "Yeah, because see I had this towel over you and I tried to take your bra off like magician tablecloth style-"

"What!?"

"You know – pull the tablecloth out from under the dishes," he explained the thought process he'd found to be oh-so-brilliant at the time. "So I tried to pull your bra off but it ended up flipping the towel up and I was freaking out—it was funny, in hindsight."

She rolled her eyes and let out a breathy laugh. "Must have been if you still remember that seven years later."

"It was a pretty memorable event."

"I suppose."

The event was memorable—not just seeing her chest, but the entirety of their first meet. After all, it certainly was not every day he saved the life of a beautiful young woman. That was all in the past, though, and they'd come miles since then and he hoped they had miles yet to go. Stepping forward again, he rested his hands at her hips and pulled her body into his. "You know what else I'm going to remember for the next seven years?"

"What?"

"The first time I make love to you." Then without even waiting for a response, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Kate responded by snaking her arms around his neck and melding her body into his, letting out a contented hum against her mouth.

They kissed for several moments before Castle's roaming hands found their way beneath her shirt. His fingertips had barely skimmed over the flesh on her mid-back when she pulled back and rested her palms flat against his pectorals. "Wait wait—ah, sorry, it's just maybe a little fast? In the interest of not blowing up our friendship can we take things a bit slower?"

He shrugged. As this was all new to him, he wasn't necessarily committed to making love that night, particularly if she wasn't comfortable. "If you want. We can keep making out a little bit, right?"

"Ah, yeah, okay."

He grinned and pulled her in for another kiss, the time walking her backwards towards the loveseat in his office. They clumsily collapsed down on it, separating their lips and laughing as they became tangled in each other's legs, but soon their lips were back together and Castle's hand caressed her upper thigh.

When, after another few minutes, things began feeling quite heated, Castle pulled back, nudged his nose against hers and sighed out. "Mmm that's better than I thought it would be."

She skimmed her index finger and thumb down the shell of his left ear and sighed, "I know."

"Why didn't we do this before?"

She let out a breathy chuckle and shrugged. "Ah, I don't know. Wasn't the right time, I guess."

"But now?" he asked with no small amount of hope in his voice.

She nodded. "Yeah, now." She kissed him again, though briefly, before attempting to slide away from him. "I should go."

He gripped onto her thigh, attempting to hold her in place. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Castle!" She half-laughed, half-scolded as she peeled his fingertips away from her leg. "C'mon I have the early shift tomorrow."

"But it's Friday."

"And? Murder doesn't care about the day of the week; you know that."

He huffed and dropped his chin to his chest. Though he was reluctant to let her go, he did know that to be true, so he released her from his grasp and followed her to the entryway so she could get her jacket. As she pulled it on, he suggested, "Come over after your shift; stay for dinner. What's with the look?" he asked immediately when her expression clouded with uncertainty. "You usually come over Friday nights anyway."

"I know it's…" Her voice drifted off as her gaze flitted towards the nearby stairs and then back to him. Lowering her voice to a near whisper, she asked, "Are we going to tell Alexis?"

"Why not? She'll be thrilled."

"That's the problem. If it doesn't…"

His brow wrinkled and he leaned away from her. Oh, that was her concern. What if they were unsuccessful on their journey from friends-to-more; he honestly hadn't even considered that as an option. "You think it won't?"

She shrugged a bit helplessly. "I don't know. I'm just…scared, because it's not just about you and me. We're not the only ones who would be hurt if this…blows up."

He found Kate's concern both touching and not at all surprising for it was not just he with whom Kate had bonded over the years. Kate's relationship with Alexis walked a thin line between being a mother and being a big sister and their bond was equally as strong as the one Kate had with him. Over the years Kate had been the only constant female figure in her life save his mother and they had been through a lot together—puberty, first kisses, struggles with friends, and changing schools. Though they had never spoken about it in an official capacity, Castle knew how highly both women thought of each other and he would never do anything to impede or prohibit their relationship, no matter what happened in the future.

Stepping up and reaching out to take her hand, he said, "Hey—worst case scenario? If this doesn't work out I would never stop you from seeing her; you mean too much."

"The feeling's mutual." Kate turned towards the stairs again and he saw a single tear escape the corner of her eye. He reached up and caught it with his index finger before it could fall past the middle of her cheek.

"Hey don't cry. It's going to be okay; I promise." He pulled her in for a hug, which she reciprocated, but only briefly.

"I should go."

"You sure you're okay? You can stay."

She shook her head and pressed her lips to his cheek. "I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N** : as always, thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Hey."

Castle whipped his head towards the melodic voice that hit his ears and a grin immediately spread across his face when he saw Kate shrugging off her coat inside the door of the loft. "Hey you." He quickly wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and hurried to the door to greet her for the very first time with a peck on the lips. When he pulled back, he saw she wore the same expression and gave her arm a gentle rub. "How was your day?"

"Better now that I'm here."

"Rough case?"

She shook her head. "No case; murderers are apparently taking a vacation, which actually made the day go very slowly."

He nodded. "But now at least you'll get to enjoy the weekend right?"

She held up her right hand with her index and middle fingers crossed. "Here's hoping."

He then nodded towards the kitchen and beckoned her to follow. "C'mon; dinner's almost ready." He paused, turned towards the stairs and called out, "Alexis!" When he heard her faint reply acknowledging his call to dinner, he continued walking towards the kitchen to remove their pork chops from the oven. As he checked on their meal, he heard Alexis running down the stairs and squeal out Kate's name when she spotted the older woman.

"Guess what! I aced all my exams! And my paper!"

Kate chuckled. "That's great, Lex; I never doubted you."

As Alexis went on to explain to Kate what part of her exams challenged her the most, Castle confirmed that the pork chops were indeed fully cooked and then set them aside to rest a moment before joining Kate beside the dinner table. He spotted a flicker of nervousness in her eyes, but gave her a reassuring smile.

Earlier that day, Kate had requested via text message that they tell Alexis about their relationships status before dinner. She said she would be too nervous to eat otherwise and the writer agreed, for he had no preference. Thus, this moment was the one for the big reveal. Castle wasn't concerned, though; he knew Alexis would be pleased.

Castle stepped up beside Kate and gazed down at his daughter saying, "Honey, before we eat there's, ah, there's something Kate and I want to tell you."

The girl's brow wrinkled. "What? Did something bad happen?"

"The opposite, in fact. We, ah, we decided that we're going to date, be a couple," he said as he skimmed his hand across the back of Kate's shoulders and gave her opposite arm a squeeze.

Alexis blinked, but did not have an expression that indicated a positive or negative reaction. "Really?"

"Yes. This is new for us and we-"

Castle was cut off by his daughter's high-pitched squeal as she dove forwards and wrapped her arms around the waists of both adults, pulling them all into a group hug. She nuzzled her head into Kate's shoulder as she proclaimed, "We're going to be a family; I knew this would happen someday!"

Kate brought her hand up to cradle the back of Alexis's head as she said softly, "You did huh?" while glancing up at Castle; he beamed down at her.

"Yeah—it's so obvious." Alexis lifted her head and pulled back enough to gaze up at her father as she questioned, "What took you so long, Dad?"

At the unexpected implied accusation, the writer squeaked out a protest. "Wha—me?! Why me?"

Alexis drew her arm away from her father's waist, but maintained her half-hug around Kate as she said, "Because Kate's been into you forever and you were dating Gina."

Castle merely let out an incoherent noise as a blip of laughter escaped Kate's lips. When he turned towards her, questioningly, she merely shrugged, put her arm around Alexis's shoulders and said, "She's not wrong." Clearly proud of her observation, Alexis smiled and leaned in to the older woman. The writer, on the other hand, was dumbfounded.

"I…I didn't…"

"And you call yourself a writer," Alexis teased.

"What am I—wearing a 'kick me' sign?!" Castle balked. Honestly! So he hadn't noticed that Kate had feelings for him—was that really the worst thing? If there was one thing indisputably true about the lovely detective, it was that she was quite skilled and keeping in her emotions and inner thoughts. If she did not want him to know she had feelings for him—which clearly she did not—she would have been an expert at hiding them. Except…oh. His daughter had noticed somehow. Perhaps he had been a bit blind.

Kate hand landing softly on his chest pulled him from his inner thoughts. "It's okay, Castle; I'm not mad. Let's just eat."

* * *

"Are you going to stay the night Kate?"

They were just finishing up their meal when Alexis gently laid her utensils across her plate and asked the question just as casually as if she were inquiring about the following day's weather.

Both adults exchanged slightly stunned glances before Kate managed, "Wha—ah—what?"

"Are you going to stay tonight? Because if you are, we can all make breakfast together in the morning. Oh! And if you stay longer we can go to that new place down the street for lunch—we haven't tried it yet and-"

"Alexis, slow down." Castle intervened before she planned out the next month of their lives. "We don't know Kate's plans for tomorrow."

The girl's brow wrinkled. "I'm sorry—are you on shift?"

Kate shook her head. "No, but I…I don't have any clothes with me, I didn't…I wasn't really thinking that I'd be staying…" Her voice drifted off as she looked at Castle, presumably for assistance in navigating the now choppy waters of their budding relationship, only he barely had time to process her words before her heard his daughter scold with "Dad!"

Her tone was so forceful that Castle jumped and his fork clattered down on his dinner plate. "Wha—why are you blaming me?!"

"Because you didn't invite her to stay!"

"No—I—what? No. That's not what happened." He had Kate hadn't discussed any of their plans beyond dinner that evening and considering he had invited her to stay the night before, she was of course more than welcome to stay that night if that was what she wanted. So how did this suddenly become his fault—again?

"It's really not," Kate promised. "This is all new to us, Alexis, just as we said. Actually it's practically brand new so we're just seeing how things go, but-"

"Oh." Alexis interrupted with a sigh as she stood and picked up her dinner plate. She looked between both adults and said. "I get it; you guys haven't done it yet."

Castle nearly toppled out of his chair. "Alexis!"

The girl shrugged and carried her plate in to place by the kitchen sink. "What? I'm in high school; people talk about sex all the time."

Castle stood and followed her, spluttering, "Yes—but—I'm your parent."

"I thought you said we could talk about anything?"

"Yes, about you—not about me!" Good grief! He was all about sharing and an open dialog and the older his daughter became the easier it was to be open about the fact that he was having relationships with women and not just an array of friends who got tired and had to sleep on the couch overnight. There was, however, a very distinct sharing line when it came to his intimate life—one he did not intend to cross. Ever.

Alexis's brow wrinkled. "But-"

"I, ah, how about I spent the night Saturday night?" Kate quickly suggested when she appeared at his side. "Then we can all make Sunday brunch together?"

Alexis smiled and shrugged, agreeing with an, "Okay," before walking back to the table to continue clearing the used dishes.

Castle turned towards his companion, his heart rate still higher than normal, and mouthed, "Thank you," to her. She squeezed his hand in response before assisting in clearing all the glasses and plates from the table.

* * *

"Okay, time for bed!" Alexis proclaimed barely half an hour after the conclusion of dinner when the trio was sitting around watching a basketball game on cable.

"Wha…this early!?" Castle stammered as he watched his daughter push herself off the couch and gaze down at him with a knowing smirk.

"Well, I'm not going to bed, exactly, but I am going to go up to my room and read—and I promise I won't be coming down for the rest of the night," she concluded with a wink.

"Alexis," her father groaned while Kate averted her eyes.

Alexis maintained an innocent expression. "What? I'm just telling you what my plans are, Dad. Goodnight. Night Kate."

"Goodnight Alexis."

"Well. That wasn't exactly how I expected this evening to go," Castle said once his daughter had escaped upstairs. Positivity he had expected but this? It was almost too much!

A breathy chuckle escaped Kate's lips. "Ah, yeah; me neither. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she's excited."

"But she's a little bit too excited…"

Kate arched one brow. "Is she?"

"When she talks about us having sex, yes."

Kate momentarily cringed and then stood from the couch and made her way into the kitchen. "Valid point, but I guess I figured since she caught you and Gina it-"

"WHAT?!" The writer spluttered, nearly tumbling head first off the couch. Instead, he scrambled to stand and follow his companion who now stood beside the refrigerator with one hand on the handle looking as casual as ever.

"Oh…she didn't tell you?"

"No! What didn't she tell me! What happened?!"

"Um…"

"Kate!" Castle said a bit sharper than he intended, but there was no way she could drop a bomb on him like that and get away with it. He had to know what the _hell_ she was talking about it even if it would make his already rolling gut even more distressed.

He watched as Kate grazed her teeth over her bottom lip and scuffed her toe against the kitchen floor. She released the refrigerator door handle, crossed her arms over her chest, and then leaned against the kitchen island with her right hip. "So, uh it must have been when you guys first got together. I didn't actually know you were together until Alexis asked me if it counted as sex if the woman only used her mouth…"

Castle felt his heart skip several beats as his face flushed and he saw a few stars float across his vision. "Oh. Oh…I need to sit." He stumbled forward and leaned heavily onto the island until he swung his rear around and came into awkward contact with the closest counter stool. Mortified did not even begin to describe his feeling at that moment.

"Well imagine me!" Kate proclaimed taking a few steps towards him so she could lean on the opposite side of the counter. "That's the question she asked with no other context and she was twelve years old! I completely panicked—I thought she was talking about herself!"

"Shit!" he proclaimed as a new wave of panic hit him. "What did you say?"

"I made her tell me exactly what happened…and that's when she talked about seeing Gina in your office."

The writer's stomach lurched at the sound of the word "office." Yes he and Gina had gotten frisky at his desk more than a few times, which was always dangerous given the fact that the room had no actual walls, but he always made certain it was hours after Alexis went to bed—if she was even there at all! "H-how did I not know about this?"

Kate shrugged and turned her eyes towards the counter as she scraped at her left thumb nail with her right. "Well…she was embarrassed and so was I. I knew you'd given her the basic sex talk so I just tried to convey that oral sex was equally as serious as intercourse and it was an adult thing she shouldn't worry about for quite some time. She seemed okay so I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure if you were keeping the Gina thing a secret or…I don't know. I guess I should have told you since you're her father but-"

"No, no." Castle sighed and skimmed his fingertips over his forehead. "I can't blame you for not telling me. I don't know that I would have reacted well so close to the event."

She gave him a wry smile. "Yeah…plus I was trying to forget that I knew that happened."

"Why?"

A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she said, "Um, TMI, Castle."

"Well yes obviously but…why?" She didn't respond but instead turned her head away from him as her ears began to turn pink. Castle slid off his stool and walked around the end of the counter so he could lay his hand over her forearm. "Kate?"

She gazed back to him tentatively and confessed, "I might have been a little bit jealous."

"Really?" he asked, his voice jumping a few octaves.

She twisted her lips to one side as she looked at him. "Don't get all Castle-y and gloat about this."

Despite the grin on his face he said, "No; I'm not." He was trying not to, anyway, but he did find it utterly adorable that she had a crush on him for longer than he realized and now it seemed he was narrowing down that time period. "Alexis said she knew you liked me for a while. Was it since I was with Gina?"

She shrugged. "More or less. I was jealous but I didn't exactly recognize it. I just didn't like Gina and… I don't know. I guess over the years my feelings just sort of bubbled under the surface until you were with her and I didn't like it and I figured out the reason why."

"You never said anything."

"Didn't think you'd feel the same."

He shook his head with astonishment. Had she approached him at that time several years earlier and confessed her romantic feelings for him he would have been stunned for sure. As he had never been deeply emotionally invested in his romantic relationship with Gina, he might have been intrigued by her proposition, but it was impossible to tell what he would have done in that time. Still, the fact remained that during his relationship with Gina, Kate had still been his best friend and confidant, so it stood to reason things would have worked out for them even if they'd begun a relationship years earlier. "And I wasted a year and a half on something that should have never happened…"

"Not a waste. If you didn't feel the same about me it wouldn't have worked."

He skimmed his hand across her arm to cup her elbow and pull her closer to him. "But now it can."

"Yeah."

He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, but when she didn't respond to his kiss, he pulled back and gazed down curiously. "What?"

Her gaze drifted momentarily towards the stairway and then back at him. "Alexis…called us a family."

He reached out his free hand to grab her opposite shoulder and once she stood directly in front of him he promised her, "We are a family; we have been for a while."

"I know. I like that. And that scares me."

"Me too, a little bit—but in the good way."

She nodded. "Yeah, the good way."

They shared a smile before he pulled her in for another kiss. That time, she let her arms wind around his waist as she sunk against him, her lips parting to allow his tongue to slip inside. As he pulled her body flush against his Castle could think of nothing more than taking her to his bed and keeping her there all night long, but when one of his hands skimmed down the curve of her ass, she said his name warningly.

"What?" he laughed breathily, his lips skimming against her jaw.

She pulled back from him slightly. "I, ah, I did the elliptical over lunch and I didn't shower so you probably don't-"

"We can shower together."

Her cheeks flushed at his suggestion. "O-okay."

He sighed and skimmed his hand down her right arm. "I don't want to twist your arm into something I don't want."

"No! No, I do. I just…" Her voice drifted off when she dipped her gaze and then shook her head and brushed some hair off her fore head. "Sorry I don't know why I'm so nervous."

"I do."

He felt it too, though arguably was doing a better job of hiding it. This wouldn't just be their first time making love; it was so much more than that. They had a lasting friendship and a deep connection. They'd seen each other in better times and worse ones. They'd been through so much that it was very likely their first time together would be the final "first time" of their lives, but that didn't scare him at all—not even a little bit.

"C'mon." He encouraged, holding out his hand to her. She smiled and placed her hand softly in his, letting him lead the way towards the bedroom.

* * *

 **A/N:** thank you for all your reviews. Only 2 chaps left and 10 is kind of like the epilogue - fyi :)


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The following morning Richard Castle woke up, arched his back in a cat-like stretch, and exhaled an audible mixture of a groan and a sigh. Rolling over to his left side, he saw the clock on his bedside table displayed just after seven thirty in the morning, which still seemed a bit too early of a time to be awake at, so he tucked his hands beneath his head, snuggled into his pillow, and reflected on the evening before.

As he predicted, his first night with Kate was definitely one he would remember for many years to come, if not for the rest of his life. Their shower began with nervous smiles and gentle laughs as they both undressed and stepped beneath the warm spray. When he told her how beautiful she was and her cheeks turned rosy he fell for her all over again. They spent the next fifteen minutes exploring every inch of each other's bodies before toweling off and slipping beneath the sheets of his bed.

He wasn't sure what time they'd finally fallen asleep, but he knew it was shortly after six a.m. when he felt her sliding out of his arms—only because she told him the time. She said she didn't want Alexis to see her, which would more than likely invite an array of questions, but that she would be back that evening. He merely grunted with agreement and fell asleep almost immediate after she bid him goodbye with a kiss on his head.

Castle dozed and reflected for nearly half an hour before forcing himself from bed and shuffling his way out towards the kitchen while scratching his side and yawning. He smiled at the sight of his daughter standing by the kitchen island sipping on a mug of tea. "Morning," he said to her. "You're up early."

She gazed at him, amused. "Not really. I think you slept late—extra tired, Dad?"

He gave her a pointed look. "I'm not answering that." No, as far as he was concerned the next and only time his daughter needed to know anything relating to his sex life would be if he and Kate announced they were having a child together.

For the next few minutes he shuffled around getting himself some coffee and perusing the pantry for what he might want for breakfast. When he finally settled on eggs and toast, he turned towards the refrigerator to find Alexis already standing there with both doors open as she gazed inside as though there would later be an exam on its contents. "Looking for something specific, Pumpkin?"

She hummed and turned around to face him, letting one of the doors close. "I'm just making sure we have enough for brunch tomorrow. I'll go to the store and get more if we don't."

Ah, there was that excessive enthusiasm again. Wanting to ground her expectations as best he could, Castle walked over, shut the door, and then took Alexis's arm to guide her over to the eat-at counter. "I can go to the store later, but let's talk a second first."

Her brow wrinkled as she sat on one of the stools. "About what?"

Castle leaned towards her and rested his forearms against the counter. "I'm glad you're excited about Kate and I, but maybe you could dial it back a little bit?"

"Why?"

"Well just…you know this is new for us and different—we're trying to ease in." As much as Castle wanted to dive headlong into their relationship, he also knew that Kate's "taking it slow" plan was the way to go (despite their actions from the night before). After being platinic friends for seven years, becoming romantic partners would be a significant transition. Yes, at that point, not yet a week after their first kiss, they were certainly in a honeymoon-like state, but soon the realities and practicalities of their relationship would come crashing down on them and he wanted to make sure they were all able to deal with them in the best way possible, even if that meant a few disagreements or bumps in the road.

"But it's like you've been a couple for years—she should just move in here!"

"We're going to date a little while before we talk about moving in, I think."

The young girl let out a helpless sigh. "If you want, I guess—but just so you know it's okay with me whenever she wants to!"

He winked at her. "I assumed."

Alexis slid off her chair and looped her arms around her father's neck. "I'm really happy for you, Dad. Kate's…she's really great."

He brushed a kiss on the side of her cheek. "I know. She's important to you."

The girl pulled back and trapped her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought for a moment. "She's not…I don't think of her like a mom, but…it just feels like she should always be here. Like…we're not the same when she leaves, but when she's here we just fit."

Castle smiled and nodded as he considered Alexis's statement; she was entirely correct. Practically ever since they first met, Kate had been a frequent present in Castle family gatherings. From crazy holidays spent with both their families together to summer weekends in the Hamptons and playing board games late into the evening. Her being around her never felt unnatural—the opposite in fact; she just fit. "I agree. Now make me your brunch list and I'll run to the store in a little bit."

She beamed at him. "Okay!"

* * *

Later that evening after dinner was finished the trio retired to the couch and watched a rented movie. As the credits began to roll, Castle gazed over at the two women beside him. Kate was just to his right, scrunched down on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. Alexis was just beside her, curled up with her feet beneath her and her head resting against Kate's arm. A soft smile crossed his face as he took in the sight of both women clearly dozing. It had been years since Alexis was in the snuggling phase so such a sight brought warmth to his heart; _his_ girls.

Castle gently stroked his hand down Kate's arm and her eyes popped open almost immediately; apparently she hadn't been that deep in sleep. He nodded toward Alexis and Kate turned her head to see the girl and then smiled back at her companion. "What time 'sit?" Kate mumbled reaching out to thread her fingers though his closest hand.

"Little after ten; movie's over."

"Mm okay." She hummed out. Releasing his hand, she reached over and stroked Alexis's arm saying, "Movie's over, kid."

Alexis stirred, realized the position she'd settled in and then apologized to Kate who shook it over with smile and, "No worries; you're cute when you drool."

The red-headed girl stood off the couch, stretched and then announced. "Well I guess I'm going up—see you tomorrow for brunch!" she finished with a smile.

"You got it! 'night Alexis."

After saying goodnight to each of them, Alexis disappeared up the stairs and Castle slid closer to his new girlfriend, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in to his chest. "Sorry if the movie was a little boring," he said of his selection.

"Honestly I didn't think it was that bad until the end—then it got really slow."

"Yeah. Oh well."

She sighed and stroked her fingers down his side. "I'm glad to see Alexis's excitement hasn't worn off any."

Castle laughed. "Not in the least; if anything, it's grown." He paused for a moment to reflect on how gleeful his daughter had been when Kate arrived for dinner even though they had spoken less than twenty-four hours earlier. Then, during their meal, she rattled off all the things they were going to do together the following morning. Thinking back to his conversation with her first thing that morning, Castle slid away from his companion so he could gaze down at her. "You know what Alexis said to me earlier? That it feels like you should always be here."

A hesitation flickered through her vision and she tucked her hands in between her knees as she said, "Castle, I…I don't think I can move in this quickly"

"No, no," he promised quickly, "I know that and I don't want you to. I mean, I _want_ you to but not this soon. I want us to be in dating mode for a little while at least. My point is that this does feel easy, right."

The smile returned to her face. "I know."

He reached over and placed his palm over her one knee, gently rubbing it for a moment before saying, "Please don't take this the wrong way but—I'm really glad Harrison Tisdale picked my murders to emulate instead of Patterson's."

"What?!"

"I mean—it could have taken us longer to get together if it wasn't for him, right?" He rationalized his reasoning. Yes, obviously he would have preferred that no one died—particularly so close to the path he took to find happiness, but who knew how long it would have taken for he and Kate to take the next step in their relationship if they hadn't had the push of working closely together on a murder case.

"I guess…technically…you're so strange."

He grinned at the way she shook her head at him. "I know, but it's one of my loveable quirks right?"

"I suppose…"

"Kate!" He half scolded her and she grinned before leaning in and kissing him.

Castle groaned against her lips, suddenly recalling their passion from the night before and desperately waning to revisit it. "Mm so are you ready for…round two?" He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively while caressing her upper thigh.

A look of consideration crossed her face for a moment before she said, "Technically it would be round three for me."

He smirked at the recollection of her mewing out his name during their shower the night before. "Mm I know."

She kissed him again and then pushed herself off the couch and led the way towards the bedroom. Once inside, she walked over to the side she'd slept on the night before, pulled back the covers and bent down to remove her socks. He watched her move comfortably through his space for a moment as she undressed and his heart fluttered beneath his ribs. She really was the perfect woman for him. He'd been such an idiot not to see it before, but now that they were together he knew nothing would separate them.

"Hey Kate." He walked over and stopped her progress as she pushed her jeans off her hips. She gazed up at him, curious, and he reached out to gently place his finger beneath her chin and tilt her head up so he could kiss her. "I love you. I realize I haven't said that yet."

A beautiful smile blossomed across her face and she threw her arms around his neck. "Love you, too, Castle."

* * *

 **A/N** : As always, thank you so much for reading

As I said before, Ch 10 serves as the epilogue, which I will post mid-next week.

Then, next Saturday, a new story - **Rescue Me**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Feeling an odd mixture of completely elated and unbelievably exhausted, Castle shuffled his way to the hospital waiting room where he saw a red-headed young woman pacing back and forth in an attempt to wear a hole in the tile floor. Smiling softly at the way she chewed at her bottom lip, he said her name softly. "Alexis."

She jumped and spun around, rushing over to her father with nervous excitement etched all over her face. "Oh! Oh! Is the baby here? Is it alright? What is it? Is Kate okay? Sorry…" The girl cringed presumably at the progressively wearier expression he wore the more words sprouted from her lips. "I know you must be tired…"

Tired didn't even begin to cover it, but considering how much more exhausting the thirty-one hour labor was for his wife, he was trying his best not to let it show. "Everyone is fine, very healthy. Would you like to come meet your _sister_?"

Alexis squealed. "Sister?"

Castle nodded and encouraged her to follow him back to their room. "C'mon."

When Kate had first suggested letting their child's gender be a surprise, Castle had been hesitant to agree. He was one who craved the answers and building his own ending. Waiting an extra twenty weeks to find out if they were having a daughter or a son? That seemed like pure torture! And, admittedly, he did not always handle it in the best or most mature of ways. He had tried at least a dozen times to coerce her into finding out the gender, but Kate remained steadfast and in the end he was glad. There was no comparison to that moment when the doctor placed their newborn on Kate's stomach and announced they had a daughter.

While Castle trudged, Alexis practically skipped behind him and hesitated only when they reached the door to the Beckett-Castle room, letting her father push the door open as she stepped in with tentativeness they hadn't seen from her in years. "Kate?"

"C'mon in, sweetie."

Castle could see over his eldest's head that Kate cradled their new little one to her chest as she sat in bed now dressed in a robe with her hair in a ponytail. Their daughter seemed to be still awake, gazing around with her big dark eyes, taking in the world. So far she hadn't cried much after she initially quieted down, but it had only been two hours.

"Ohh she's beautiful."

"Here, take her." Kate lifted up the baby to hold out to Alexis, but the red-headed girl stepped back with her hands raised up, palms facing out as she shook her head.

"Oh no—it's okay."

"Alexis, take her," Castle encouraged, nudging his hand against her spine.

Alexis glanced at him tentatively then stepped up beside Kate's bed and reached out her arms. She pulled the blanket-wrapped baby into her chest and proclaimed, "Oh—oh she's—she seems small, is she small?"

"Smaller than they thought—only about seven and a half pounds, not eight," Castle pointed out.

"Thank god," Kate added; they all chuckled.

Alexis gazed down at her little sister for a few moments before looking at Kate and asking, "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine; tired but fine."

Alexis turned her eyes back to the baby and rocked her gently back and forth. "Are you guys still going to go with Johanna for her name?"

Castle stepped up to the bed and reached down to pat Kate's knee as they exchanged glances. "No we decided that should be a middle name; we're going to call her Margaret—Maggie for short."

Alexis smiled. "Maggie. That's nice; I like it."

As Castle watched his two daughters interact for the first time, he felt his throat thicken with emotion. Suddenly, he found himself reviewing Alexis's entire life in his mind: from the first moment he held her, through all her late night feedings, and the first time she'd gleefully called him "Dada." He was so proud of the woman that she was now that she was about to make her way through college and he imagined his pride in her would only continue to grow as she doted on her little sister.

Though he would not shy away from taking some—well, probably a good portion of—the credit for how Alexis turned out, he knew he shared it with Kate. Though she remained tentative during their first few meetings, Kate and Alexis's bond formed quickly and he was endlessly grateful for her existence in their lives as another adult figure for his daughter to depend on and learn from. Amazingly, that bond only grew after the onset of his romantic relationship with Kate. He had expected to spend nearly every free moment with his new girlfriend, but soon found her being split between himself and "girl time" with his daughter—not that he minded as their relationship was equally important.

The three years since the dinner at which they announced their relationship had passed quickly and had unquestionably been some of the favorite years of his life, but now, with Maggie, he knew his life was only about to become more amazing and he couldn't wait.

Castle's peaceful observation of his daughters was disrupted when the smallest let out a high-pitched wail. Alexis froze instantly, looking as though a bomb had detonated. For five seconds Maggie wailed and Alexis panicked until she looked at her father and asked frantically. "Oh! What do I do?!"

The second time dad shook his head and reached out his arms. "It's okay; I got her."

"Better get used to it Lex." Kate teased while Castle bounced their crying baby. "We're going to have you on diaper duty."

"Then I guess it's good I'm moving to the dorms in a few months—just kidding!" Alexis added with a grin towards the two elder adults. "I'll be back to visit all the time, obviously."

"You'd better." Castle added. As Maggie's cries grew louder, Castle passed her back to Kate, who cuddled her against her chest and soon Maggie was quiet once more.

Alexis gazed down at her lovingly for a moment before smiling at both Kate and her father. "I'm really happy for you guys; she's beautiful."

"That's kind of you to say, but we're all still a family, Alexis—the four of us." Kate pointed out.

"Exactly." Castle agreed. Their familial status had been official far longer than any of them realized, but just because he and Kate had a daughter of their own did not discount Alexis's inclusion and it never would.

Smiling at each of them, Alexis said, "I love you guys."

Kate smiled. "We love you too."

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you all so much for reading. I'm so glad everyone enjoyed this AU.

As promised Rescue Me will begin posting on Saturday


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